


The Sweeter the Tongue the Sharper the Tooth

by spindermans



Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bisexual Peter Parker, Daddy Issues, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Smut, Farmer!Peter, Gaslighting, Knights are terrible people, M/M, No gender roles, Not MCU Peter Parker - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual Wade Wilson, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter doesn’t have powers, Spideypool - Freeform, Unhealthy Relationships, Wade Wilson Has Issues, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, Wade is illiterate, being gay is not a sin, everyone has a crush on peter, it gets better guys i promise, no beta we die like men, not a straight person in sight, not historically accurate, pretty girls, wade sucks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 44,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spindermans/pseuds/spindermans
Summary: after getting abducted from his village by unmoral royal guards under a mysterious command, Peter is given no choice but to trust a charming stranger he comes across in the woods, who seems to not only charm his heart but steal it from right under his nose.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Original Male Character(s), Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 17
Kudos: 69





	1. The Chariot

It's too cramped inside, too clammy and close and awful. You would think a carriage of this calibre would be able to hold more than three people without experiencing extreme discomfort and early onset claustrophobia, but here he is. Sandwiched like Aunt May's homemade jam between the seed bread they baked together that morning. The royal guards would be the bread in this situation. If bread could be brooding and handsy. Imagine it going stale then somehow worse.

He doesn’t even know why he’s in this situation. About an hour ago he’d gone on a walk to collect more plans for his journal, and suddenly he was being picked up by these men demanding he change out of his clothes and get into the carriage. He’s annoyed—more so afraid. They haven’t told him what they want with him, and with the way he’s dressed, he’s sure it’s not anything good. It feels tighter than a buck caught in—

Suddenly, his eyes snap down to a particular gloved hand traveling from his outer thigh inward. His lips pursed together from sheer discomfort, the scrape of the stretchy fabric of the trousers against the squeaky leather makes him want to grit his teeth and flinch away. But he’s sure it would do him no good; instead, he closes his legs a bit more in an attempt to stop it from going any farther. To his dismay, the other guard reaches over to put his hand on Peter's other thigh. He hasn't looked anywhere but a single spot where the floor met the wall for nearly 7 minutes. Or hours. He forgets how long he's been stuck in his own head stuck inside this green carriage.

He can't think of what to do, or what to think, it's like his mind is drawing blanks in panic, as if he doesn't interact with what's happening, that it isn't actually happening. He's not here.

He can feel the extra hand beginning to open his legs, and he braces himself for the worst, but it never comes. Instead, the carriage comes to a stop with a rather large bump and another guard opens the door, causing the other two to pull their hands away almost immediately.

“We’re stopping here, we caught the left wheel on a ditch.” He announces to the three. More to the two. Peters sure he’s not being addressed.

“Take him out for a walk while we fix it.” He orders, then leaves. This wasn’t an ideal save, but Peter was more than grateful that luck ended up on his side. He finally gets to move his stiff legs after tensing them so close together for so long. Though, before he gets to stand up himself the two men hoist him up by his arms as if he couldn’t walk, causing him to grunt uncomfortably. They didn’t care.

All three of them step out of the carriage, and Peter gets a glance of where they are. He has no idea what this place is. It’s on an unfamiliar trail in unfamiliar woods. There were guards all around, some still on their horses and others helping lift the messed up wheel out of the dirt. What did they all want from him? And why was it so important that he had this many escorts?

The two who were now gripping him in a more professional manner seemed to have lost interest the second they couldn't get what they wanted, half heartedly holding onto a bicep each and heavily leaning onto the 7 ft spears they have at their sides.

From the left of him, Peter could hear someone rustling with what seemed like a bag of food, fruits being handed between men, which made his stomach twist and grumble. He hadn’t eaten since he last saw May, which was a couple hours before he went on his walk. Would they feed him? He should ask—no—yes! He should.

“Is there anything to eat?” He finally speaks up in all of the time that he’s been with these strange men. Even when they’d found him and cornered him, he was too afraid to speak to any of them. They might’ve even taken him for a mute.

“You’ll be fed when we get back to the kingdom.”  
One answers, looking at Peter with eyes that he could only describe as dead and cold. The eyes of a man who not only had no mercy but was taught that that's who he should be, that there was nothing wrong with wanting to smother life and it's freedoms.

The kingdom. What Kingdom? The nearest Kingdom from Littlebreach is a two week trip on horseback if you're lucky. Surely they're not feeding him.. for that long… surely.

Without Peter realizing, the two guards start moving, making him trip over his own steps before he finally regains his balance. He could see they were going on a small hiking trail that branches off from the main road, and part of him felt… nervous.

No. He doesn't want to be a part of this anymore. He's frustrated, tired, hungry, and not in the mood to have two strange men isolate him with no help in the middle of the woods. He needs to get away from them and their nasty claws.

He can’t make a run for it when they’re too close to the rest of the guards, when they go further down the trail he can run off and close them between the trees. With armor like that, they’re too bulky to slip through small spaces without being caught. He has an advantage in the brush. So, he walks with them without a fight or a fuss, hoping they’d let their guard down just enough. As a farmer, he’s got some strength, but probably not brute force. It's just lifting everyday, it isn't exactly militia training, but it’ll do.

They turn a corner and Peter glances behind him, seeming that the rest of the men and the main road had disappeared from their line of sight...and it seemed like the noise was going away too. He’s growing impatient with every branch or leaf he hears crush under their feet. It’s now or never.

With all of his strength he starts jerking his arms from their hold, it's not a clean break away, but the second grip they try to get onto him isn't strong enough to keep him down, he slips out and ducks from between them, stumbling off the winding path with adrenaline he never knew he had in him.

His heart pounds with every stomp and crunch he hears from behind him, but he won’t dare look back. He slips between every crack and crevice he could see, getting through crawl spaces like his life depended on it. And in his mind, it did. He didn’t want to think of what would happen if they caught him—but he can’t help it. Would they hurt him? Kill him! Or worse? He’s still running, the terrible thoughts plaguing his mind so much that he doesn’t recognize when the noises behind him faded.

The air grew thick, hard to see through, but Peter couldn’t bring himself to stop. The terror in his heart told him to keep going. So he did. He pushed and pushed until he slammed right into something hard. He falls to the floor with his eyes glued shut from his head rattling. It couldn’t have been a tree, it was too soft—it felt like fabric against his cheek? Slowly, he opens them, his vision blurry but able to make out a large figure turning around above him. No. They caught him—they must have.

“You stay away from me!” He shouted, scrambling around until he was on his feet and backing away warily.

“I won’t let you take me!”

“Woah there doll, I barely know ya.” The figure responds calmly, a mouth full of food.


	2. The Magician

So here he was. Minding his own business. Munching on the crispiest fucking apple your whore grandma could lay eyes on, when all of a sudden, a squirrel or something bashes into his back with the same urgency he got after that keg game he won, woe, but at what cost.

So you could obviously understand his surprise when he actually turns around to grab the tail of this rodent bitch and give them a stern talking to, he ends up looking down to see, well, he couldn’t exactly describe that as a rodent. Weasel has got NOTHING on what just dropped into his lap.

Imagine an angel, but somehow better. Even under the shade of the tall trees, the boy was glowing. Red rosy cheeks paired with darkened freckles, pretty brown locks sprawled out as if they weren’t brushed, and the biggest honey pots he’s ever done darn seen. Staring at him.

The nymph seemed spooked, shouting at him to stay back (a classic), then sprawling to stand up on two long legs that should be ruled illegal. The get-up’s dicey, all tight and expensive looking, it looks like it wasn't meant to have smudges of spring mud and grass stains all over it, despite the green and gold nature of the tailoring. Huh. Green and gold uniform.

“I won’t let you take me!”

The shout makes Wade blink out of his thoughts. How long was he just standing there like an idiot?

“Woah there doll, I barely know ya.” He put his hands up, half eaten apple in his left, trying not to appear so threatening. The mush sitting in his mouth made his voice groggier, clogging the usual silk that is his vocal chords.

He could see that the smaller man still wasn’t trusting of him, he was still stepping back, bright eyes attempting to pierce Wade like the daggers he's so used to.

They both stare at each other for only a few seconds, but it seemed like minutes. The only sounds were from the boy who panted like an exhausted animal.

Wade is always the first person to break the silence.

“What’re you doing out here running around and screaming like a crazy old bat for?” Probably not the best way to get a frightened deer to trust you, but he was only saying what was on his mind!

“You're gonna wake up the damned with your screams alone—“

“Shut up!” Bambi finally answers, his voice being just as soft as his appearance. Even through fear.

“You’re one to talk! I’m not the one shouting Hail Mary through the middle of the woods!”

“I actually have a reason!—ugh—I don’t have to explain myself to you! Who are you and why are you here?!”

Hearing the frustration in pretty boys voice made Wade crack a smile. This is fun.

“Who am I and why am I here? I'm hungry and I'm out on a stroll. And it’s the fucking woods. You don't exactly live here, other people can show up without it being classed as breaking and entering. Why the fuck are /you/ here, huh?”

He can only imagine what the boy would say next. ‘Smart ass’. ‘Loud mouth’. He’s heard it all. It is in his nickname after all. Instead, he gets a loud, upset sigh in response.

The boy turns around, putting his hands over his face, probably stressed for some reason. Couldn't imagine why.

“I’m sorry. I was minding my own business, then these random knights picked me up, kidnapped me, and now I’m here! I don’t know where I am or why I’m here! The carriage broke down and—and I ran away, and they chased me! I thought—“

Oh! That's why. Wade needs to be careful here.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “I thought you were one of them and that you were going to take me back.”

Yeesh. Someone doesn’t know how to bottle up their feelings very well.

Wade feigns surprise. “Knights you say? They never come round these parts of the woods.”

Bambi doesn’t say anything yet, just staring off into the endless forest. This gives Wade some time to size him up a little more. He doesn’t look that strong, not the tallest either. He won’t talk about his ass he won’t talk about his ass. KILLER ass. But if he did want to talk about it, he would say it was astonishing. Perfectly round and probably jig—

“If I can find the main road I might be able to just follow the wheel trails the carriage left behind.” Doe eyes started, taking steps in different directions in order to see which way seemed clearer.

“You don’t want to do that!” Wade let’s his hands down and starts approaching him closer. “If they went through that hassle to get you they might still be looking for you. And judging by the outfit you got on, it doesn’t seem like they wanted you for common labor.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Pardon my language, but you look like a gift wrapped whore in that! Look, you can’t even get around with those trousers on, and the whole thing outlines nearly every aspect of your body! Do you not feel naked in that thing?”

With every word Wade spoke, Bambi’s cheeks and ears became more red. He didn’t know what the outfit made him look like.

.”—I’m not saying that you are a whore! It’s just the outfit.” Wade generally can’t hold his tongue, most of the time he doesn’t realize how bad he sounds until he actually says it. He could tell he embarrassed the doe.

Even after the apology, it was silent again. It itched Wade. He’s constantly by himself, and even then, he’s his own company. He’s not awkward. It has to be this weird forest boy.

“Hey. I got a bright idea! How about this. I'll help you out! You can come travel with me, and I'll be the ever so entertaining tour guide of your dreams.” He offers with an extended hand and a sharp toothed wolfish grin.

The boy looked at Wade’s face, his cheeks blushing from a sudden feeling of bashfulness. He didn’t know whether to trust him or not, but he was acting so nice...and offering to help him. This could be his only way of getting home.

“O-okay.” Not quite sure of what he’s supposed to do, he reluctantly placed his hand on Wade’s, not realizing it was meant to be a handshake rather than a hold until the other man grasps it firmly and rattles his arm.

“Great! Just you, me, and Betty!”

“Who’s B—“

Just before Peter can fully answer his question, Wade whistles loud enough for it to echo throughout the area. At first, he’s confused, but the pounding of hooves against the dirt floor and excited whinnys answers enough.

It was a large black mare, circling around them joyfully and occasionally headbutting the wolf affectionately.

Wade placed his hand down on Betty’s saddled back. “This gal can get us anywhere! You are so lucky to have met me Mr—“ Through all of the craziness, Wade forgot to even ask the guy for his name. Not that it really mattered.

“Uh—Peter. You can call me Peter.”

“Peter. Petey. Great! ” Suddenly, he picked the boy up by his waist and lifted him onto Betty.

“You can call me Wade. Wade Wilson. Mr Wilson if you're nasty. Now,” He grunted, hoisting himself onto Betty as well, sitting directly behind Peter with his arms under the doe’s skinnier ones so he could hold the reins.”

“Let's get this show on the road.”


	3. The Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long we wanted to extend the chapters

“Sooooo, Petre,-”

“It's Peter-"

“Yeah, yeah, Petro, whatever; where ya froom?~ The town, village, city, kingdom, bottom of a well, the docks? I don't judge!”

Peter doesn’t bother correcting Wade again, he just stares blankly at the thin trail ahead of them while the strange man babbles about who knows what. It’s like he just finds any way to keep talking and talking.

“I’m from Littlebreach, it’s a village—“

Peter looked up, chewing his lip in thought. They were going south judging by the direction of the carriage when they let him out, which means…

“North of here.”

“Great! We're not going there. We have to get to Hillfar to keep you all snuggly and safe in a safe house. Don't worry, doe, the place is practically lavish, you'll love it, a lot of markets.” A lot of interesting people.

“Hey, wait, I need to get home—my aunt is probably worried sick about me.” Peter turned his head to the side, looking up at Wade with an expression of worry. He wasn't an unattractive man, not in any sense of the word, chiseled features, tan skin, sandy hair, he checks all the boxes. He just has this edge to him, the look in his scarily blue eyes slightly too manic, the (what must mean to be) comforting smile a tug away from bearing too many threatening teeth, but only on the left side of his face, as if an invisible finger is pulling the corners back to put his canines on display.

“Right, but if they took you from Littlebreach or near there, wouldn't they find you again at the drop of a bourrelet?”

“Yeah but—“

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head! Once this clears up I’ll bring you home to your mom and it’ll be like this neevverr happened!”

Peter doesn’t say anything more after that, he just looks ahead again wondering if he really made the right decision. Hillfar? He’s never heard of that place before. How long would he have to stay there?

“We can stay at Mags’ while we're there, Weasel will definitely mind but he makes exceptions with me.” he leans in slightly, a hand covering his mouth from an angle away from them. “Which just means I scare the heebie jeebies outta him, it’s actually really fucking funny, because when he gets scared he forgets how to, how do say,” he whispers, “hold it in.” he pulls a grimace that turns into comedic wide eyed nodding.

Peter is...lost at first, wondering what the man had meant by ‘scaring’ his friend. But when he turns it into a joke, Peters sure he wasn’t being serious, so he starts laughing. 

They continue on like this for the rest of the day, Peter's new acquaintance was… different, to say. He liked to talk a lot, he jumped from topic to topic within seconds. And after all the random stories he tells, Peter still knew little to nothing about him. He just knew his name. Wade.

Peter doesn’t want to say that Wade is rude, but he can be a little obnoxious. He says things that you probably shouldn’t say to a stranger you meet in the woods, but then he tries to explain himself right after. He doesn’t know what to think of this man.

Around them, the forest is settling with an orangish-pink tint arraying through spaces between the leaves. Had it really been that long already?

“We’re gonna be riding all night, doe! Ever pulled an all nighter?” The overly cheerful voice behind him speaks up.

“Um...no. I usually go to bed pretty earl—“

“Welp! You’re gonna have to change that. I’m not making any stops.” Wade cuts Peter off. It seemed like a habit for him at this point.

For the rest of the time, Betty trots through the thicket, Wade hums unfamiliar tunes, and Peter grows drowsy. 

By now, it was pitch black, the only thing guiding them was the lantern strapped around Betty's neck. As Peter's eyes begin to close, the subtle jingle of the lantern, and the random accessories latched onto Wade’s person clinking together, may be the only thing that’s keeping him upright, that and his heavy leaning on the broad chest behind him for support.

He was beginning to grow used to the sounds little by little, finding them a bit comforting in a way. He wasn’t in danger, and he’s sure Wade wouldn’t mind if he just rested his eyes a little…

“If squirrels could talk, wouldn't that be fucked, eh? Think about it. They’d be annoying as hell too, talking about nuts or something. We get it! You like them, so do the rest of us. You're not exactly special.” Wade begins a rant. He doesn’t like squirrels, they’re mean little fuckers, right next to chickens. All and every chicken can go choke on his fat monster cock.

“You ever dealt with a chicken before?” He says out of nowhere, like most of his conversation starters. “I hate those bitches. Name one nice chicken. I’m waiting.”

And he does wait. Peter doesn’t indulge in what he says that much, but now he’s really quiet. Hmm.

“Hey Piper. Are you listening?” He looked over Peters shoulder, seeing that his eyes were closed and small snores were escaping his lips.

“Pip? Petra?”

“Peter?”

No answer.

Wade sighs.

“Like a baby.”

“I told you not to go to sleep.” He whispered his complaint, not really wanting to wake him now. “And what do you go and fucking do? Right in front of my salad, honestly. Well I guess I have no other choice but to stop and find somewhere nice and cozy so you can get your beauty sleep.”

Wade pulls the reins in a new direction, going through a little opening between a couple trees. He won’t mention how he’s trying his best to keep Peter comfortable right now.

It takes a couple minutes of wandering before a spot catches Wade’s eyes. It was a nice little clearing with a cute pond and a large willow tree. It’ll have to do.

“C'mon down pretty boy, the sleepy time wagon’s arrived.” Wade climbed off of Betty, keeping his hands behind Peter in order to prevent him from falling. “You better thank me for this tomorrow.”

He swung one hand under Peter's knees and the other on his upper back, lifting him down bridal style. “Fates you gotta eat something kid. This is worrisome.” He’s lighter than a pet fly on a string, all draped out in his arms quite gracefully. He seems to be a graceful person by nature, but not at all eloquent at the same time.

Wade approached the tree with the boy in his arms, staring at it with his eyebrows knit. “Sorry if this isn’t exactly cozy.”

He got down on one knee and tried to put Peter down in the most comfortable position he could manage. Tree trunks aren’t necessarily the best substitute for a pillow. 

After placing him down, Wade stands up with his knuckles resting under his chin. Something doesn’t feel right here…

Oh!

He bounded back towards Betty, the mare huffing.

“What’re you complaining about!?”

He opens the satchel tied to her saddle and digs through it while the mare keeps talking to him. He just rolls his eyes as if she’s lecturing him or something. Aha! 

He pulled out a blanket, batting it out a few times to get off any dirt or whatever nasty stuff is on there.

“Here you go, sweet prince.” He mutters while approaching the sleeping body, draping it over him.

“I won’t do this for you again. Just saying.” He crossed his arms and looked down at Peter sternly, as if he was going to argue. The guise he puts up drops relatively quickly, as he finally gets to look at the fella properly. He can’t stop thinking of how pretty he is, but that’s it. He’s pretty and nothing else.

However,

If they met under different circumstances—

No. He’s not going to go there. 

He's a professional, he can have a purely platonic, formal relationship with this ass of gold until he gets them to Hillfar. He won't even think about biting into that apple.

He hardly ever feels awkward or uncomfortable, but part of him feels like he should put space between them, if he actually wants to succeed. He cuddles up to Betty's side like he does every night, the mare curling her head towards him protectively. She huffs again, a smaller sound escaping her. “Oh shut up you old bag. I'm not going soft.”

-

The first thing to wake Peter up was the strain of his neck being propped uncomfortably against something rough and large behind him, making him hiss softly. He slowly opened his eyes, the rays from the sun hitting them instantly and causing him to hide his whole head under his blanket—what? A blanket?

He slowly pulled it off of himself and squinted his eyes, adjusting to the light while taking in his surroundings. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was riding on Wade’s horse—where’s Wade?

He sat up, looking around to find the man but he was gone. Did he—did he leave Peter? He shouldn’t have trusted that guy, he just dropped him off in the middle of nowhere with a blanket? What the f—

Peter hunched over and groaned, his hands coming over his stomach as it rumbled like an angry dog. He didn’t eat at all yesterday, he got so sidetracked.

He should go find some—

“You’re finally awake!”

Peter looked in front of him, a pair of chunky, muddy boots, thick pants, a black cloak with holes and rips at the bottom of it. His gaze travels up farther, until he’s making eye contact with two blue diamond irises.

“You look worried there, doe. Ya miss me?” He crouched in front of Peter, smiling with that predatory grin. “That’s cute.”

“No! I—I thought you left me here!” Peter explains, waving his hands around and turning red. “I was scared.”

Wade’s smile fades into a fake frown. “What? You don’t think I’d keep my word? I’m a little hurt, baby boy.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry!” Peter didn’t mean to offend Wade at all, he barely woke up! He couldn’t think straight.

The other man sighed. “It’s okay, I get it.” 

Peter continued looking at Wade, feeling bad for how sad he made him. How could he have been so cruel?

“Well, I thought I’d be nice and get this for you.” Wade reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple, holding it out for Peter. “I figured after a long day you would be hungry.”

“Thank you.” Peter spoke quietly, grabbing the apple from Wade’s hand and taking a bite.

“Don’t mention it Patrick.”

“It’s P—“ 

Wade put a hand (while wearing his leather riding glove) over Peter's mouth while waving his index finger at him.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s bad manners.”

Peter swallowed down fruit in his mouth, Wade taking his hand off right after and standing up above the farm boy.

“You’d better eat that fast, it’s just a snack before we go out to find some real food. Lucky for you, I am a skilled hunter.” People, animals, they’re all the same! Shouldn’t be that hard.

“Really? Or are you just saying that to impress me?” Peter retorts, cursing himself silently for not holding his mouth. He already insulted him once in the last three minutes.

“If I did, I’d already have you off your feet by now.” Wade quips, even adding a wink for the fuck of it. 

“I doubt it.” Peter replies with a scoff.

“Then let me prove it.”

Without considering that Peter hasn’t finished the apple, Wade takes his hand and helps him up from the ground as if his weight was nothing. 

“You’re gonna eat your words Pauly-boy.” Wade leers at Peter in a way he probably meant to be charming, but it just seemed downright filthy.

“Peter.”

Wade doesn’t acknowledge the correction, instead, he turns away and marks an x in the tree with a blade he flicks out of his wrist, presumably from nowhere.

Now, Peter questions Wades behavior a lot, but he truly didn’t understand what inclined him to carve into the tree. It was strange. Really strange.

“What did you do that for?” He decides to ask, obviously curious.

“yaknow, sometimes Polly, you just need to wait for which direction the wind blows before questioning why the skies are grey.” He has no idea where he found that saying, he may have just made it up.

Peter raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by the “wise words” Wade told him.

“Yeah, well the wind doesn’t really tell you whether or not you’re getting flooded.”

Smartass.

“Why don’t you just wait.” Wade puts it more simply. “Patience is virtue and all that.”

“Uh huh.” Peter decides not to quip, he could only see it going on and on for ages. He’s never met someone who doesn’t back down from his sassiness. Interesting.

“Great! So we’re on the same page now.” Wade came up next to Peter and threw an arm over his shoulder, pulling him close enough so that their sides were pressed flush together.

“You know what? I can see a beautiful friendship blossoming between us already. Two guys. A horse. It’s all coming together.” He threw the blade at the trunk, and without looking it embedded itself into the center of the x.

Strange man.

Those words keep coming to Peter's head during almost every encounter they have. Watching him hit that tree trunk so perfectly made him wonder how he’d learned that skill—No. He shouldn’t judge him or speculate anything. Wade has been nothing but helpful, the least he could do was trust him. 

He saunters up to the handle sticking out the bark, giving Peter a sleazy, cocky grin as he yanks it out and fits it back into a hoister on his hip in one smooth motion. He bows for the dramatics. “No lying here, bambi eyes. My boots are the exact right size. The largest they had.” That may go over the boy's cute little head but the blonde was proud of his innuendo.

“Good for you.” Peter congratulates him with a slightly questioning tone, not quite sure what that meant but he’s happy for him?

“Great for me.” Wade holds in a snicker, finding the boy's ignorance amusing. Maybe him not getting the joke was better than him getting it.

“You any good at hunting or are you more of a.. berry picking guy?”

“Um…”

Peter has only had very few hunting experiences, and it was usually with his uncle. He didn’t like it, in fact, he hated it. He didn’t want to hurt the poor animals but they needed food.

“I’d rather not do it. I can find plants though?”

He doesn’t want to just stand around while Wade hunts. He’d feel bad. He can do something.

“That's fiiine, just means I get to show off sum’more.” He moves over to pat down Betty as she munches on her prepped breakfast. He treats her like a large dog, with the way he pets and cooes to her.

After spending a few minutes preparing for the hunt, Peter and Wade get a move on. Peter wouldn’t admit it, but Wade did kind of know what he was doing.

Though, he had to help him out a bit. He taught him to leave out roots to attract the little critters, Wade just ignored him and then acted like it was his own idea.

Arrogant.

The two hares they managed to grab would be enough between them, Wade not even offering Peter to carry the carcuses, he looked queasy from just being around them.

“You don't know how to defend yourself, do you?” He asks, more so states, holding both hares by the ears over his broad shoulder as they start walking back to camp.

Peter looked to Wade, subtly offended by the question even though it was true. He doesn’t have anyone to teach him, how would he know? That’s why he got captured.

“Why would you ask me that?” He averts his gaze, affronted. Wade’s habit of making things his business bothers Peter.

Wade gets in front of Peter, walking backwards as he realizes he's not stopping that sexy power strut of his. “Um, have you considered that I might want to help you out?” He sounds offended himself, but in that comedic fake way of his.

“Do you?”

“Hm.” he falls back in step with the boy, does he actually want to do that, considering the circumstances? It could just be a hassle that bites him in the ass in the not so distant future.

Oh well. That’s someone else’s problem. Maybe he wants the kid to put up a fight. Maybe he wants him to win. Who knows anymore.

“Yeah, I do.” Wade decides, his voice chipper.

They only make a few stops so Peter can pick up some vegetables. They were quiet too. It was weird because Wade didn’t mind it, he usually breaks the silence all the time because he hates it. He didn’t hate this, not really. It was sorta nice, finally being able to walk through the forest with someone else who clearly enjoys the environment.

At least he thinks Peter enjoys it. While the boy's eyes wander, Wade fixates on him every couple minutes. He doesn’t look stressed or upset like he did when he met him or when he saw him this morning. He looks, well, he's beautiful when he's calm. He's enchanting in such a way Wade hasn't come across before.

Enough of that.

Wade looked forward, seeing the familiar clearing of their camping spot. “I won’t make you skin the rabbits. I’m not that cruel. But can you cut veggies? No, you probably can’t handle a knife either, huh?”

“I can use a knife.” Peter sasses in a way Wade is beginning to become familiar with, going to take the knife off of Wade where he has the handle out towards him.

As he goes to actually grab it Wade lifts his wrist so now the handle points upwards towards the heavens, both now close enough for Wade to crane his neck down at him. What a short, cute, little deer.

“/Without/ cutting yourself? I may not have all the right medical equipment for any type of self-induced idiot injury.” He teases, moving his whole arm back when Peter goes to snatch it off him.

“I’m not defenseless.” Peter huffed, growing so frustrated that his cheeks were pink again. He blushes easily.

“I dunno. You seem pretty defenseless.” Wade bends his knees so he’s at eye level with Peter. “Nothing wrong with that though. I’ll protect you.”

Maybe he said that to get under his skin. He can’t help it.

“Oh. My knight in shining armour. How charming.” Peter spoke through grit teeth. It was taking everything in his power to not punch this guy right now.

Wade held eye contact with Peter for as long as he could manage, but soon he was hunching over and laughing loud enough to scare the fish in the pond.

He stands back up straight, wiping a fake tear from his face. “Whoo! You're funny, I like you.” he finally gives him the knife, moving away to start on the hares.

Peter didn’t find it funny. It was annoying. Wade thought he was soooo hot with his muscles and his silly jokes and that smile that made his stomach funny and his heart race. So what if he’s big and strong and really really handsome. He’s an asshole! How could he ever put up with one of those?

He went his own way, away from Wade, looking for something flat that he could chop the vegetables on. His mind wasn’t really on that though.

Wade is so mean to him! And for what?! He's insufferable! So much so he can't stop thinking about him and his awful, insufferable face. And he crouched down like that so they could make eye contact?! Sorry not everyone is 10 feet tall with hands the size of his fucking ribcage.

When he put him on the horse yesterday. Peter realized Wade was huge in every sense. Wait! No! He didn’t mean it like that. It's not like he's hinted at that anyway. Surely, not..

Just shut up Peter! You’re supposed to cut those vegetables!

-

“You alright, punkin pie? You look beet red down there. You getting a fever or something?” Wade asks as they sit down to eat side by side, handing Peter a bowl he retrieved from over the fire in front of them.

Despite his efforts, Peter's mind keeps wandering. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t like Wade, he knows he doesn’t like Wade—but now he’s the only thing he can think about! It’s exhausting.

“I’m fine.” His voice was small, practically a squeak.

Wade checks his temperature anyway, a large, warm palm resting gently on his forehead, under the longer curls he had framing his face.

Peter instantly scoots back, suddenly feeling a bit hot from the contact. “I’m fine.” He repeats, louder this time. Wade retreats his hand like it got burnt.

“Sorry! Sorry, I actually am, I should've asked, that's on me for breaking your boundaries.”

The apologetic tone in Wade’s voice had caught Peter off guard, he looked at him as if he was shocked.

That was actually really...considerate of him. Peter's heart skips a few beats.

“I—um—it’s okay! Really, it’s okay!” I don’t mind.

Peter's own thought surprises him, makes him flush more. He feels like a huge mess, his words get melted on his tongue and it’s like he’s being held down by millions of butterflies.

What’s happening to him?

“It’s okay.” He repeats again, quietly.

Wade watches Peter go through about six emotions at once. He kept pausing, staring blankly at the fire they set, then snapping out of it. 

It’s cute.

“Better scarf down that food! You’re gonna need it.” Wade changed the subject, hoping to shift the weird mood. What's up with the guy all of a sudden? All smitten over nothing.

“What do you mean?” Peter asks. Are they going to travel all day and not eat? That sounds awful.

“Well you can’t train on an empty stomach, silly.” Wade’s eyes follow Peters hands as they begin to grab at the large spoon in the warm pot of stew and then scoop some out onto his bowl. “Believe me, I’ve tried. No bueno.” He adds, still gazing.

When Peter chews, his nose twitches in a way that Wade could only compare to a little bunny rabbit. He probably shouldn’t stare at him while he eats, but the sight is adorable.

He wouldn’t be wrong if he said everything about him was perfect, it’s the truth! Pretty plump lips, doe eyes flickering in almost every lighting.

As soon as Peter swallows down his bite though, Wade has to look away. He can tell the deer doesn’t know the kind of beauty he possesses.

Maybe that’s good. Spare him the burden.

“Wade?”

Fuck.

“Yes, Phoebe?”

“I...asked what kind of training?”

He must’ve been completely zoned out when Peter first asked that question because he didn’t hear a thing. He needs to pull himself together.

“Self defense. You, my dear, are going to learn how to use a sword.” Wade hummed, taking his own bowl of food.

“Oh! Uh. You really don’t have to, it’s not—“

“Nope, I’m a man of my word, baby boy.” Most of the time. 

Sometimes.

If you squint.

“Plus, it might be useful to you in the future.” Wade winked at Peter, as if he knows what he means. “Peanut, the sword-swinging swash-buckling rogue! I like that. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“No. Not in the slightest.” Peter answered, not even hesitating.

“Ouch. I liked it.” Wade wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eye. “It was my best one yet.” 

“What was your worst??”

“Don’t ask.”

“Aaaanywho, finish your breakfast so I can kick your perfect behind.” Wade jokes, bringing up his own bowl to his lips to slurp up the last of his own breakfast.

“My wh-“

“I said eat!” Wade spoke through a mouthful, pointing a very menacing finger at Peters face until he started eating again.

-

After a loooonggg couple minutes of pretty boy’s sllloowww eating, Wade finds two good sized sticks on the ground, figuring it would be the best way for doe eyes to start.

Wade gets a bit lighter to fight him, shucking his cloak, holders and dual swords that always seem to be attached to his back, dropping them all in a pile aside the pond; they find themselves under the magical room of the willow arching over them.

“I’ll go easy on you.” He tells Peter, only to tut when he spots how he's holding the stick. “Hang on a nun-fucking second.” he comes over to the confused boy, standing behind him then leaning down slightly to reajust his posture and manipulate the grip he has on the weapon.

The taller man was so unbelievably warm, his presence very known touching his back and forearms. He must be one of those people who asks why your hands are cold then warms them up by holding them safe in his.

“Hold it firmly, nonono- yeah! Yeah under, just like that, you're a natural.” He pats his shoulder as steps away coming in front of him while looking him up and down freely. “Right as rain, now go ahead and swing it.”

Peter nodded, gripping the base of the stick tightly from a sudden feeling of nervousness. He was tense. What if he made a mistake? That would be so embarrassing!

“You’re straining your muscles, Petey.”

Peter looked at Wade, surprised. He kind of got his name right? He felt more flustered than nervous now.

“Sorry, I’m just really nervous. I’ve never done this before.”

“Don’t be. We all start somewhere. Just take a deep breath. Don’t work your muscles too hard, it’ll be bad for your posture, you'll get all stiff and start looking at your footwork. Ever learnt how to dance? It's the same shit, but violent.” Wade does his best to explain. He’s never been the teacher before.

Peter kind of knows how to dance, enough to probably maneuver. “Okay, yeah, I think I get it.”

“Amazing! So, you'll lead. Try to step forward and hit from underneath, I'll meet you in the middle.”

Peter nodded, straightening his posture and then taking a long, deep breath. He can do this.

He stepped forward, trying really hard not to think about what would happen if he tripped and fell over right now.

His ‘sword’ came up to swing at Wade's at an odd angle, the strange man fulfilling his promise and stepping back while blocking the movement Peter made.

“Right, can I show you what you did? Sorry, I guess i'm more of a visual teacher- isn't it fun learning new things about yourself along the journey?” he sounds genuinely giddy, coming up to the side then repeating almost exactly where Peter went wrong. “See, what you did was this. You actually need to do this.” he repeats in a higher octave. he gives the example of a proper base line advancement, repeating it a few times and adding comments so Peter can study it.

“Step, tuck, swing, parry, step, repeat. Exactly like that, let your free hand help you balance. Ah-ah not quite remember what we said about posture. You're a dancer, the prettiest princess at the ball. You wanna show off your moves to those pineapple fuckers. But you can’t really do that if that stick of yours looks like it's up your ass.” His running commentary was calming the stiffness in his shoulders, but nothing can stop his heart rate from skyrocketing when Wade plants those hands of his on Peter's waist.

They fit perfectly around him, holding him so firmly that he feels a sense of security.

“..Pepper? Pione?” Wade tries to call his attention, but he seems to be really concentrating on something.

“Peter.”

That seems to grab him out of his little trance he does, Wade can't blame him, he's terrible at focusing on things himself, he has to fidget a lot or else he starts thinking about other shit without concentrating, even if he really really tries to. He can't help it, it's not his fault.

“Sorry.” Peter croaks sheepishly, hating the way Wade said it, and how it made him feel intense feelings. He made the word, his name, sound provocative. How does someone do that? That shouldn't be allowed, none of this should be legal because it's causing him physical ill harm, as in he's sweating like he just crawled out a ravine.

“It’s okay. Let’s try that move again though.” Wade’s hand traveled up from Peter's hips to his shoulders, resting there. “Don’t feel bad if you mess up, I’d probably be concerned if you got everything on the first try.”

Wade moves back in front of him, weapon out, copying his posture but much more naturally, as easy as blinking for him. “How can I get this more in the mood? Give it that real passion? Oh!” he clicks, changing his body language slightly, obviously putting on a character.

“My arch nemesis, Peter the handsome sea siren, we meet again after you escaped my clutches twice now! You will not be so lucky in this endeavour however, as I've cornered you! The only way you could get back to safety on your cool pirate ship would be to defeat me! Ready- you sexy scurvy dog?” He speaks in a pirate accent with one eye closed to mimic an eyepatch. 

Wade's always liked pirates.

Peter couldn't help the laughter bubbling up out of his throat, the loud one that he hates. He always got teased for it or got in trouble for being too loud.

Wade now likes that laugh more than pirates.

Peter put his hand over his mouth, breaking the position because of it. He wanted to silence himself because he was sure Wade would make fun of him.

Now he was just standing there, laughing breathlessly. Even when he stopped for a few seconds it just started up again. He was so busy with trying to compose himself he didn't even realize Wade was in the exact same position, the curled finger his has on his free hand (presumably a hook) crumbling along with his perfected pirate face, now biting his lip like a lifeline, his eyepatch still going strong. He tries straightening his shaking shoulders only to let out a breath, that sends him back round the cycle of letting out a laugh three octaves too high for a man of his stature.

When Peter did pull it together, he looked towards Wade, realizing that he was laughing too. Was he laughing at him? Or with him? He grew flustered, his face was hot and his blood was rushing. That glittery feeling keeps coming back to him.

Wade reveals which it was, a small comment under his breath going a long way.  
“You have such a contagious laugh.” he remarks, like it's an inconvenience, if you ignored the massive uncontrollable smile still on his face.

Peter turns his head away slightly, shy. No one has ever said that to him before. “Thank you.”

When they were ready, they both get back into position and Peter actually does it right without Wade’s help! He was getting it, little by little. The pirate act is back on, but they’re able to control themselves this time.

“Yer gonna regret challenging me!” Peter does his best, but his pirate voice wasn’t the greatest.

Wade enjoys it all the same, enthralled by Peter's shared enthusiasm.

He was about to make a witty comment, but he checks Peter's footwork last second as they start fighting around the trunk of the willow pretending it was a mast, the roots were thick and exposed at their feet.

“Pete, there's a fuckin-" He was a bit late in warning him as Peter takes a step back and catches his heel on the tentacle of a root, losing balance, but Wade wasn't late in dropping his cutless and catching the boy by his waist, halfway down with a leg now bent in the air by Wade's hip.

“That was close.” Wade breathes, realizing he's got him in a low dip. Not romantic at all. Nope.

Peter stared up at Wade with those wide eyes, still trying to take in their current situation. He felt like the breath was taken right out of his mouth.

He would’ve been fine if he fell, but Wade caught him.

He caught him. He might just be thinking too deep into this, but it was almost like Wade cared. 

Wade might've caught him, but that did nothing to stop him falling.

Does he like Wade?


	4. The Wheel of Fortune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long bad writers block lmfao. Also we’re starting to draw the tarot cards, Hope u guys like them!

Peter always had a habit of tugging and fidgeting with his sleeves, but it's getting ridiculous at this point. He very suddenly had no idea what to do with his hands after they finished up their.. ‘training’ session.

They just felt clammy and damp and warm, he didn't want to touch Wade's stuff with his awful grabbers! Or him, for the matter of fact. Even if Wade had  _ no qualms _ touching him. He helped him up onto Betty again like he did yesterday like being able to pick others up like that is just something everyone can do. For now he's ignoring the fact that he knows how to get up on a horse just fine, but hasn't bothered to mention it.

He was fiddling with the shiney looking cuff on his left sleeve while Wade dug out a shabby beer bottle from a pocket of the mare’s bag, popping off the lid with a skilled thumb.

“Want a drink, doe?” He asked, waving the bottle in front of Peter's face.

It breaks the box he's put himself in momentarily to scoff at Wade's bubble breaking, pushing the drink away.

“I.. um.. I've never really  _ tried _ -"

Wade gasps overdramatically. “What?! How old are you? 15?” He asks, rhetorically, obviously he isn't… isn't 15. Wait.”

He leaned over and squinted at Peter. He forgot to ask the kid how old he was. If he’s underaged he is  _ not _ taking him to Hillfar, he’s a bad guy, but not that bad.

“I’m 19! Don’t be ridiculous!” Peter sounded pretty offended, reaching his arm behind him so he could shove Wade’s face.

“Well how was I supposed to know that!” Wade grabbed Peters wrist, wrestling with him until Peter gave up and retracted his hand back to his lap.

“Every  _ normal _ person starts when they’re like 16!” Wade teased, poking at Peters side until the boy smacked him away. He’s so sensitive.

“I’m sorry I’m not  _ normal _ like  _ you. _ ”

“That’s okay, baby. Not all of us can be perfect.” Wade knows he was being sarcastic, but he just wants to see that cute little angry face a bit more. He’ll apologize later. Maybe.

“You—“ Peter was about to yell, insult him, push him off the horse maybe, but all of that disappeared once he heard that stupid little pet name. He huffed, a silent ‘anger’ taking over him. Why did he find someone so—so  _ annoying so  _ attractive?! He had a face that just screamed heartbreak. Guys who look like Wade are the ones that do the worst damage.

So  _ why _ did he want him?

“I don’t want a drink.” He finally says, glaring at the earthy floor. He doesn’t even know why he’s mad anymore.

“That's fine, I mean not getting drunk for the first time with a stranger on his horse is probably a good call. Street smarts and all that.” Wade twirled the bottle around a few times, listening to the sloshing sound before taking a long drink.

When the quiet takes its hold over the two, Peter found it less comforting now. He only had his thoughts, which were all about Wade, and if he chose to talk to Wade then he’d just have  _ more _ thoughts of him. He tried thinking of May, if she was okay, how happy she’s gonna be when she gets to see him again—but then he’d have to say goodbye to Wade.

Is this really it? He spends a couple weeks with him and then suddenly what they have is over??

What is he even saying?! They don’t have  _ anything! _ He knows  _ nothing _ about this guy! All he knows is that he likes talking, takes good care of his horse, hates chickens, has some serious hunting skills, travels, is generous, kind, a visual teacher, has a high pitched laugh—

_ Enough. _ Wade isn’t even interested in him so he should just move on already! It’s not like he  _ cares _ about Peter or anything…

“You okay, doe? You’re being real quiet down there.” Wade asked nonchalantly.  _ Yeah right. He’s actually worried. For some reason he keeps wondering if he upset Peter somehow. _

Not that he gives a fuck. He totally doesn't care. He's not meant to. This entire thing is a front. Ah broody broody bad wolf man grr scary. That's who he actually is. He doesn’t have time for cute boys with their little feelings all hurt.

But he shouldn’t leave a bad impression, right? He wants Peter to trust him so he has to  _ pretend _ like he  _ totally  _ cares. Which he  _ doesn’t! _

“I was just teasing you earlier, Petey. I don’t think you’re not perfect—“ Why did he say that?! “I think you’re great!”

He should stop talking, because now he sounds like some kind of sap. He’s never had trouble charming strangers, it’s so easy—but Peter made it hard.

And why isn’t Peter  _ answering _ ?! Oh fuck, he really did piss him off didn’t he? Shit. Why is he getting so worked up over this?

“Baby?”

“Stop calling me that!” Peter blurted, his tone whiny. “I’m not your baby. My name is  _ Peter _ .”

Wade sucked in a breath, weirdly relieved by the boy's answer. He’d hate it if Peter ignored him. (Why did he find that weirdly hot?)

“Sorry, Petey. You just had me worried there for a second, I thought I hurt your feelings.” It’s just an act it’s just an act. _ This isn’t real _ .

“You really dig your own holes don't you, Wade?”

“I'm starting to think that's my quiche now.”

“...Are you trying to say shtick?”

“Bless you, Pete, you got hayfever? You should've told me!”

That broke the farm boy, his tough mask crumbling as that damned laugh escapes him, tension unpicking from his spine.

It was...beautiful. Seeing the tempered pretty boy let go of everything and  _ laugh _ , feel anything other than stress and worry. Feel good because  _ Wade _ made him feel good. It made the wanderer happier than he's been in a while.

Ah, fuck. He can't go through with this.

He watched Peter laugh for a little longer, smiling so wide that his cheeks hurt.

But even like this, he could never be caught off guard.

He could hear strange noises in the distance, an ambiance foreign to the forest's natural melody, it makes his brow furrow and head snap towards the direction he's guessing it's coming from.

He could tell that whatever it is, it’s making an effort to be quiet.

Peter's talking to him, asking him questions, but he's far too focused on what's around them. The only thing that brings him out of it was the sound of multiple horses stomping and puffing in the distance.

“Change of plans, Petey.” Wade interrupts whatever the boy was saying. With one arm curling around Peter's middle and one yanking on the reins, Wade sends them off the main path and into the cover of the trees. It was a risky move, they must’ve heard them because now the sounds are drawing closer. He could lose them in the trees but Betty might struggle.

“We’re gonna have to be real quiet, Peter.” Wade was still holding him, his whole body covering him like a human shield.

“Why?! What’s going on—“ Peters panic was cut off short by Wade’s hand covering his mouth. Now that everything was totally silent, he could hear it too.

“We’re gonna go on foot from here.” Wade whispered to Peter, quietly jumping down and helping the boy down by his waist again.

“Wade—“

“If anything happens you have to run, do not turn back to try and find me or else they’ll catch you.” Wade pat Betty’s flank, the mare responding by trotting off.

He took Peter's hand, pulling him through the trees as silently as possible. The sounds were now inches away from them, and it was just as Wade expected.

He heard a few men stop in the clearing they had just ran from, clad armor clinking together from their movements.

“Could’ve sworn he went through here.” A man spoke up, crouching onto the floor to look at the hoof marks. “Must’ve gone that way.” He pointed to the direction in which Betty fled, but another guard shook his head.

“Maybe that’s what they want you to think. The spot over here looks like someone stepped all over it.” He gestures towards a small clearing, twigs broken and grass smushed.

“I think you’re overestimating the kid.”

“He got away the last time, we can't afford to underestimate him.” He approached closer and closer to the tree Wade and Peter were hiding behind.

“Did you hear how  _ mad _ the prince was?” The other guard starts searching where the horse had gone, occasionally poking his head through the trees to see if anyone was hiding there.

“No way, were you there?” The guy closest to Wade and Peter chuckles.

“No, but some other guys were and they said he was crying like a bitch. ‘I want him  _ now _ ’ ‘how did he get away?!’” 

“All that over one boy? Man he better be worth all this trouble. I read the description on him, sounded like a dame.”

“Yeah, the dudes who let him get away said he had the ass of one too.” 

“C’mon man, don’t be gross.“

As the voice came round to pass the tree the pair were using as cover, Wade had unsheathed the hefty hunting knife that was tucked away safely in it's holster. He caught the panic in Peter's wide eyes but assured him with a subtle and quick shake of his head, also wide eyed. He flips the knife easily with a flick of his hand, the dull end of the blade landing safety in his covered palm, the heavy balanced handle now his choice of weapon.

Knocking the guy out cold wasn't so hard. He guessed the height, extending his arm out from the trunk, the blunt force whacking the guard between the eyes, he went down like a dream.

“I’m just saying! If you saw him you’d probably say the exact same thing, wouldn’t you?” The other knight didn’t seem to realize his friend was knocked out. “Ugh, whatever. You always act like you’re above everyone.”

“You found anything yet anyway?!”

“Hey!” He turned around, his eyes going wide. The other knight was on the floor. “Holy shit, Davvy!” He ran over to the other man, crouching down to see if he was okay, but it wasn’t till the last second when he realized they weren’t alone.

There was a pair of boots before him, and when he looked up, it was a knife too.

“Fuck! Davvy wake up!” He grabbed the knights limp arm and scooted away, dragging him along.

“We need help!” He shouted, drawing the attention of other knights that had been prowling the area. But after that, Wade had stomped up to him, and he was out too.

“Shit. We need to move. I didn't get to him quick enough.” Wade unconsciously twines his and Peters fingers, the thoughtless need to keep him close and protect him was the only thing driving him.

They both make a run for it, but Peter struggled to keep up. Wade had better stamina than him, he was used to running. How can he expect a farm boy to know how to escape a full blown chase?

He has an idea.

Out of nowhere, he stops running, but he’s still holding Peter's hand. “We’re gonna have to split up.”

“What?! No—I—“

“I know what I’m doing Petey. I’m gonna lead them away from you.” Wade put his free hand on Peter's shoulder, trying to console him.

“What if you get caught?!”

“Oh, trust me, that won't happen.”

Peter didn’t look so sure.

“Bab— _ Peter _ . You  _ have to _ trust me for this to work. Do you trust me?”

Peter looked into Wade’s eyes, afraid, but every part of him was saying not to doubt Wade’s word. He hasn’t done anything to make Peter  _ not  _ trust him.

“I trust you.”

“Good.” Wade let go of Peter's hand and took off his cloak, putting it on the smaller boy. “This’ll make it so they can’t see you so easily. You stick out like a sore thumb with all that gold.”

He wanted to just stay here and admire how adorable Peter looked in his cloak. Maybe he should get him one of his own someday—there is no someday.

Reality hits him when the shouting of men breaks through the forest. They have to move fast. “Get out of here, Pete. Hide somewhere.  _ Please. _ ” He didn’t mean to sound so desperate, but every second that Peter stays it feels like a million years. He doesn’t want to lose him because they chose to stay and lolligag.

“Be safe, Wade.”

Wade was about to say something, but Peter was gone before he knew it. The funny thing is, he didn’t know what he was going to say at all. No one’s ever told him to be safe, shit, most people he knows would laugh if he got hurt. Not like it matters when he gets hurt though.

He faced the direction in which the knights were starting to come through, keeping his thoughts on his twin blades being held on his back, Bea and Arthur, and settled to take cover beside one of the many ancient trees in the thicket.

Like rats they scurried through, seemingly leaving the two knocked out comrades behind in their wake to find Peter. He head counts six of them, then seven, that's a mid day snack for Wilson. 

It looks like they walk in pairs, apart from the poor seventh lacky who seems to think he's some undefeatable hero just because his mommy said so. How sad.

He picks him off easily, as he stopped to investigate a noise made by the stone Wade threw, all the hunter had to do was grab his face from behind and open his throat with the dagger he keeps handy in the cuff of his left boot. Wade caught the weight of the dead man and dragged him back by his arms, hiding him in the thorn bush that wouldn't be comfortable to fall into, if you're alive that is. The way his lil’ boots stuck out was cute.

Wade would be too loud trying to catch up to the new lacky on foot, too obvious. He's lucky he has a second option.

As his form merges into the darkness, his features whisp off into thin, purple smoke, swirling and dropping to coat the flattened path made from a dozen steel boots. The subtle fog travels quickly, like a phantom of a python, across the forest floor, over the wet clumps of fallen leaves and around tall gooseberry bushes in bloom. The violet killer appears once more in a blur, smoke transforming back into handsome, intimidating features that swipe at two seperate ankles, as he slides along his side dissapearing back into the thicket. The hunter only came under the sun for a split second.

He's camouflaged in the foliage on his stomach as he watches the back pair of knights both cry out and drop to their knees, trying to clutch their gushing calves. It catches the other fours attention, lucky for him, he loves a challenge.

Appearing in front of the leader like the devil appearing from flames, Arthur comes clashing down onto a gold embezzled blade kept in shakey, unready hands. It made him smile.

With one hand, he maneuvers Arthur round and off the petty defense using skilled fingers, slashing from underneath up into the assailants forearm, he stumbles back only to be replaced instantly with a new challenge. 

A spear tries to embed in his shoulder while a new knight goes to hack into his side from behind him, so he uses Arthur to catch the jutting out guard of the spears point and yank the man closer, about to stumble right into him, but dissolves of his physical form to dance between his feet, becoming whole again further up the path just in time to see the two fall into each other. A spear through the heart of a friend. It's practically poetry as they crumble to the floor.

The forth comes charging at him, trying to get Wade in the thigh but completely leaving his guard open. It's the thought that counts. His hunting knife comes out to play again, switching around his grip by letting it go and snatching the handle from the air in time to slam the blade into his fleshy unprotected esophagus. He doesn't realize it, but he's freely cackling.

-

Peter stumbled helplessly through the covert, the only thing protecting him, Wade's admittedly cozy cloak, snagging onto low branches as half of it draped along the forest floor behind him.

It was convenient for hiding, but not while he’s running. He tried to ignore the setback, tried to not let it get him and make him worry, but he's a worrisome person. He couldn't help it. The poor farm boy was almost in tears by the time he stopped himself to bunch up and collect the cape to securely wrap it around himself, refusing to let out a frustrated whimper when he kept tugging and tugging on one corner that was completely caught. Untangling frayed cloth with violently shaking hands isn't easy.

When the cloak got caught on a particular branch, the boy grew antsy, yanking with all he had but proving ineffective. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, he could hear something coming.

He wanted to hope it was Wade, but when the darkened figures came into the light, all hope had disappeared.

There was one knight, no, two—three. They were all surrounding him, swords out and ready to do anything if they had to. He felt like a deer in light.

“Get away from me! I’ll… I’ll—“

“What’re you gonna do?” One chides, making the other two chuckle like his fear was funny.

He does the best thing he can do and unclips the cloak, the body of it hitting the wind and covering his escape through a crawl space he spotted when he was untangling the wretched thing. There was a way to get round to where he ended up across a stream, but it seemed long enough to give him time to lose them. He stopped wasting time.

Peter's lungs stung, as well as his ice cold throat, he was starting to get sloppy, before only caring about distance and not stealth, now unable to do either.

With limp legs he stumbles behind a family of trunks, gripping onto the bark and his incredibly tight chest, only now does he regret ditching Wade's gift, he stuck like a sore thumb from most angles, at this point the most effective option was to bury himself alive, and he was so close to actually fu-

There was movement behind him, beyond the family he's found shelter in, his shoulders stiffen almost instantly, staring down the forest in front of him without really seeing it.

Peter is suddenly more aware of his rapid breathing and every small sound around him as the silence takes its toll. With every movement, his heart beats a little faster.

He doesn't move himself until he can't hear a single thing outside the normal ambiance of the woods, only then does his breathing start to slow as he gains the bravery to poke his head out and check the thicket. 

Nothing. Just bugs birds and silence. All of what he's so used to. He lets out a well earned sigh as he returns to settle more into his hiding place.

The knight in white was grabbing him before he could see him. From the other side of the tree the no faced man had pulled back his arm in a way that hurt his arm socket too much, forcing a broken yelp that was muffled by another hand slipping over his open mouth. His first thought went to Wade, how he covered his mouth for childish reasons like speaking with your mouth full, and then to protect him, this man had none of Wade's charm and all the gentleness of a pissed goose.

“The ones who run are always the best to catch.” It was a gross saying, it made Peters gut wrench.

“You’re a skittish little thing, aren't ya?” The man doesn’t even acknowledge the pain he was causing Peter, in fact, he pulled  _ farther _ when the boy wouldn’t cooperate. “Now I see why the prince wants a plaything like you, you’re as pretty as a painting.”

Peter shut his eyes,  _ sick _ and  _ horrified _ by the things the man was saying to him. It was anything but complimenting, it felt filthy.

“It’s too bad though, if I could I’d—“

What?

“—get you to the castle safe and sound.” The knight's tone and attitude had changed completely, as well as the death grip on his arm.

Peter opened his tear filled eyes, and in his view were the three guards he’d escaped from just earlier. There was no way of getting out of this now.

“Be careful, the brats weaselly.” One spoke up, approaching Peter and taking his free hand to stop him from running when the other man let him go.

Peter struggled against them, brows furrowed while trying to shout past the disgusting gloved palm covering half his face, it was getting harder by the second to breathe through his nose. Ever hyperventilated using only one nostril?

“Look at him, he's gonna fucking pass out with you water boarding him with your clammy hands.” One points out, not actually caring if he does.

“You’re just jealous.” The knight took his hand off of Peter's mouth, giving him a chance to catch his breath. But instead of heaving, he starts to scream a particular name.

Wade's name bounces through the thicket, the sound resonating in tree tops and disturbing the crows that nested there.

The second scream was cut off again by the same hand, witty remarks replaced with concerned looks all shared around.

“He's  _ with someone? _ ”

“Of course he is!” The man holding Peters mouth shut also pulled on his hair, leaving a painful sting. “You’d better shut your mouth unless you want your friend to die.”

“The guy's showing up anyway, isn't he? That scream could've been heard from the fucking base tower. Great job, Hennessey.”

“Duke was the one that told me to do it, shit for brains!” The man,  _ Hennessey _ , shouts right into Peter's ear.

“Oh so it’s always  _ my _ fault!”

“That’s the fucking point, Duke! You always do this and  _ we  _ get in trouble.”

-

He caught the last one in the shoulder, about to finish him off when he heard the scream.

He's never felt anger quite like this. Well, that's a lie, only one other time.

Peter was in danger, and he needed to do something  _ now. _ He looked down at the wounded knight with a mean snarl. He wanted to kill him slowly, but he wasn’t the one hurting his Petey Pie.

He lets him live, and he’s not happy about it, but he couldn’t waste any time. 

He zips through the wilderness, sporadically changing between his two forms for time efficiency, he can only search for him in his physical appearance.

He had stopped in an opening surrounded by trees, his anger becoming more powerful than his conscious thoughts. While he runs around like some fucking idiot, Peter could be in real danger. He needed to  _ think. _

He turned around, breathing in deep with his eyes closed and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

_ Wade W. Wilson if you want to save that hot ass you have to do it in style. If he sees you all mad and emotional it’s gonna be a total turn off. _

He breathed out and opened his eyes, and somehow as if luck decided to give him a break, his first clue was right in front of him caught on a tree.

His black cloak blew sadly in the wind, snared on a menacing branch. Peter had gone through here, and judging by the new tears in the cloth, there was a struggle.

As he inspected further, he could hear some men shouting in the distance, drawing him to take a closer look…

-

“Listen you guys can’t give me any shit right now because  _ I _ was the one who caught him!” Hennessey let go of Peter's hair to point his finger at the other two knights.

“It’s not our fault he got away! He’s smarter than he looks.” Duke whined.

“ _ Him? _ ” Hennessey held Peter's jaw roughly, turning his head from side to side. “ _ Look at me! I’m so pretty and dumb! Duke can’t do his job for shit!” _

He deserved it when Peter bit down on his finger with full force. Even the other knights laughed.

“Ow! You little shit, I’m gonna make you regret that!” Peter's eyes go wide when he sees the man raise his hand.

“Woah woah woah what's with the party we got going on here? Why wasn't I invited?”

The hand that was about to hit Peter stops midair, the farm boy uncoils from where he flinched away, eye's opening to see a certain handsome stranger, he's never been more relieved to see anyone alive before.

Hennessey was quick on his feet, while the others swiftly surrounded Wade, the knight put a blade to Peter's throat, taking note of the way Wade tenses. He cares about the boy.

“Hands up. Above your head.” He barks, bringing the edge closer to his throat, making his head tilt up, his nervous swallow makes his adam apple graze the blade.

Wade wasn't looking at Hennessey, or any of the other knights, only at Peter, waiting until he catches the boy's eye. He appeared so calm, so collected.

They were weirdly out of time in that single moment, only them in a bubble, no past or future, just them, there, together. It was such a nostalgic feeling, even if he knows it's never happened before, it just felt like it was  _ meant _ to happen.

‘Do you trust me.’ The stranger mouths. It wasn't picked up by the rest of them, but Peter saw it. He understood.

Peter could only answer with a subtle nod, but it was all Wade needed.

He made the effort to look defeated, biting the inside of his cheek while looking at his feet, large palms slowly raising above his shoulders and about to hold the back of his head. It felt so genuine that it almost had Peter worried. Almost.

Before anyone had time to act, Wade pulled one of his katanas out from his holster, chucking it in the direction of Peter and the knight.

Peter stared in horror as the weapon flew at him, and it was coming so fast that he didn’t have time to think. He knew Wade wouldn’t aim for him, but he still went stiff and pale.

Only when it flies right past his ear does he realize what was going on. The knife to his throat fell on the dirt in front of him, and the hand holding him was gone.

He won’t look back, he knew what he was going to see and he wasn’t ready for it. All he could do was run, right to Wade and straight into his arms where he felt safe.

Wade had reached out to grab him, going off guard when the boy was safe and sound, leaving himself vulnerable to the men they somehow forgot about.

Peter was nearly falling into him when he saw the blade come out of the handsome stranger's middle, protruding towards him, glistening a dark crimson under late morning sun.

Just as Peter was about to look up at Wade, everything started to fade in a smoky haze. He didn’t get to see Wade’s face, make sure that he was still conscious—still  _ alive. _

The knights only saw the explosion of purple smoke that engulfed the two, the eventual whisps swept off in the breeze, leaving the space where they just were empty.

Everything around them seemed to disappear, substituted by a black emptiness. An echoing groan escapes Wade as they fall to a cold surface, wet and jagged and scuffing Peter's palms as he catches himself somewhat.

He didn’t understand what just happened or how it happened, but his thoughts were already traveling somewhere else.

“Wade?! Are you okay?!” His frantic voice shouts for miles, making a few tiny pebbles fall from whatever was above them, along with heavy droplets of water.

He couldn’t see around him, but his hand patted at the floor until he could feel what he assumed was Wade’s shoulder. “Wade!  _ Please _ answer me!”

“Did I impress you yet?” The man rasped, Peter couldn't see him, but could certainly hear the grin in his words. He winces, grabbing onto Peter because he can. They're safe wherever they are.

“You just got stabbed!”

“It’s fine, this is a paper cut compared to the usual.” He was acting so casual, but Peter was afraid. He didn’t understand, he was lost, away from home.

“ _ Please _ ! Just be serious! Just this  _ once! _ ” The brokenness in the does voice was so clear, and the watery droplets hitting Wade’s skin made it even clearer.

“Peter, listen to me, I’ll be  _ fine _ .” 

“ _ HOW! _ You are  _ impaled. _ Fates, we don't even have anything to stop the bleeding, i can't even  _ see _ the wound, where  _ are we _ Wade—“

“Peter!” Wade didn’t want to shout at him, but the boy was  _ not _ listening to him. He needed to get his attention some other way.

“Just give me a second, I need you to calm down. Look-" he takes Peter's hand in his own, then brings the smaller palm to cup the left side of his neck, where his heartbeat was beating strong, loud and proud. “Nothing bad is gonna happen to me . Nothing ever does.” The stranger admits in a whisper.

“No, you got  _ stabbed _ , I saw! You got hurt!”

“I know I did. It's actually still there. I should get that.” Wade gently soothed Peter's hand with his own. “I know this is probably confusing as fuck for you, but I’m gonna explain it to you.”

“Wade—“

“And  _ don’t  _ interrupt me.” Yeah, yeah. He’s one to talk, whatever.

“Do you know what a warlock is?” He asks, after a hearty exhale.

“Those guys from the story books?”

“Yeah, kinda. A long time ago I made a few questionable decisions and now I can't die, not in a convenient way anyway. Also I can teleport. That's why we're here, somewhere. Can you grab the handle in my back? It's in that annoying point below your shoulder blades that you can never reach.” Wade talked as if this wasn’t the weirdest most unbelievable thing that Peters ever heard. Sometimes the warlock forgets that other people live normal lives.

Peter hadn’t moved yet, he was trying to take all this new information in. Wade has  _ powers _ ? He thought that stuff was just some myth! Just something May would taunt him with as a kid to get him to bed on time.

“Magic is  _ real _ ?”

“You have no fucking clue, dollface. Now get this outta me, the sooner the better. I'm sick of not being able to see.”  _ ‘your face’. _

“Right, sorry!” Peter found his way behind Wade, the handle of the blade pressing against his stomach when he helped him sit up. Hopefully he didn’t push it further through him.

“How are you so  _ heavy _ .” He grunted, doing his best to keep the position in place.

“Just because you're half my height and weight doesn't mean you get to complain about my very average 200lbs, thank you very much.” Wade holds onto his splayed out legs to keep up and help out the poor farmer. 

Peter dropped the blade as soon as it was out, he could feel the slide of it from the vibrations, it made him want to throw up so bad that Wade had to console him while he did. ‘you're doing great!’, ‘Only a bit further now.’

When it was just them and the hole in Wade's chest, the warlock had found the farmer's knee in the dark as they both breathed together. “Whew. Now that that's over.”

The hug he catches him in is borderline bone crushing, both arms wrapping around the lithe body so protectively, his face buried in the crook of his neck like he lived there.

“Holy fuck you scared the beheejies outta me, doe. I thought they had you for a hot second.” He squeezed him tighter, the confession settling in the wet air.

Peter was shocked by the hug, he didn’t expect Wade to do something like that—to  _ say _ something like that. He got this fuzzy feeling in his stomach again, the one that told him to hug back and stay in Wade’s arms for as long as he’d let him. It felt so nice to hug someone like this, to have a friend care about you this deeply.

They both stay like that for what felt like a minute, it probably wasn’t, but to both of them it did. Wade was the one to finally pull away, clearing his throat and trying to recollect himself. “Emotions are for pussies.” He joked ironically (which Peter chuckles at, fuck yeah), fumbling around in one of his many pockets for a match or something they could use for light.

Peter only laughed so things between them wouldn’t be awkward, but internally he felt...uncomfortable. Why would he say something like that? It’s whatever… it’s fine. Wade probably didn’t mean it like that.

“Well, I have good news and bad news. Good news is I have a couple matches, bad news is I have no idea where we are.” Wade striked the first match, letting it rest in his fingers between the pair, both finally seeing each other's faces and the state they're both in, and what must be a dramatic cave system they're sitting in.

“Amazing.”

Peter really was.

“Holy barnacles I fucking forgot to ask, are you okay? It may be redundant now but I should ask anyway.” He seems bashful for forgetting, face flushing under the limited light source, Peter really does glow under any light, it's almost a superpower at this point.

“No! No I'm fine, really, I got a little roughed up but that's nothing compared to what happened to you.” Peter admitted, eyes now traveling to the hole in Wades abdomen.

Delicate fingers start to carass the tear in the fabric of his over-armour, the boy seemingly unaware of the effect it has on Wade. It's been a while since someone got him flustered.

Wade gently guided Peters hand away, trying not to give into the tempting warmth. “But I can heal,  _ you _ can’t.”

“I know. But it has to hurt, right?”

Wade had crossed his legs by now, leaning an elbow on his knee and his face in his palm, wearing the goofiest smile that he attempts to hide with his pinky (unsuccessfully).

“You get used to it.” He mumbles, like a bashful kid. And he hated that, he never let himself act this way in front of people. Especially not random forest twinks he met yesterday.

“Why are you acting so flustered all of the sudden?” Peter asked, laughing to himself.

“I am  _ not _ flustered. I have no idea what you're talking about.” he sat up straight again, looking away, the goofy smile unable to leave his cheeks.

“Yes you are!” Peter reached over, putting his hands on Wade’s cheeks to show how taut and warm they are.

Wade doesn't pull away from the soft hold on his face, he feels like he physically can't at this point, but manages to look anywhere but those big brown sparkling eyes boring into him.

“We should probably get moving now.” Wade said, as if to avoid any more of this discussion. He never gets teased, now he understands what it’s like to be Peter when he makes fun of him.

“Hey you don't get to use the ‘we might die in a random cave’ excuse on me, bucko.” Peter was gonna use this against Wade forever, he doesn’t even care how old it gets. Now he  _ finally _ has something on him. “Don’t worry though, if you get all shy again I’ll be here to protect you from the bats.”

“Oh, fuck you.” He retorts, laughing all through the three words. Peter didn't know about magic eh? Time to make some shit up. Payback.

“Although, I would appreciate a hand to hold, there would be alot of  _ grabbers _ out there in the darkness.” He tries to say casually to catch Peter's attention.

“Don’t ment—wait, what?” Peter's hero facade drops, replaced by the usual mystified boy.

He's got him. “What? What'd I say?” He plays dumb, he wants to get Peter to ask him what it is.

“What’s a ‘grabber’?” Peter was now leaning in, his face more visible in the very dim light.

Wade very easily gives Peter the match to hold so he has his hands free to execute this properly.

“Boy, you really must be living under a rock. Imagine a cave, just like this one, where the cave ceiling drips with hundreds of stalactites, but something horrid lurks in between, dripping sticky saliva that can be so easily confused with innocent water droplets. A barnacle-like creature blends in with the jagged spikes around it, except this spike can open up like a crows beak to reveal thousands of tiny bladed teeth.” The more detail he gave, the more scared Peter got. The boy was holding the match close to himself, as if the light would protect him from Wade’s made up creature.

“Descending from the horrific death trap is a long, sticky tongue, that can retract as fast as it can drop, and guess what it sounds like?” he pauses, and on queue a menacing drop of water falls near them, the echoes that followed rattling Peter's thoughts. He unconsciously falls closer to Wade, his free hand gripping his shirt. 

“It preys on mostly bats, but the mouth of the creature is big enough to swallow a horse whole. The way it catches its victims is the scariest part. As a wondering, lost mammal, say, I don't know, a person, creeps slowly through the darkness, they never think to look up. The barnacle hears the small steps and very slowly starts to unspool it's long, winding tongue, and as the poor little boy stops underneath, then…” Wade stops, having leaned in closely to Peter who was breathing heavily against him.

“IT GRABS YOU!” Wade shouts, grabbing Peter's sides with both of his free hands that have been slowly creeping towards him this entire time. 

He didn't expect Peter to scream that loudly but the way he fell into his lap with a shaking grip around his shoulders made him laugh nearly as loud.

The light had gone out from Peter's abrupt movement, leaving them in the dark once again.

He held onto Wade with a tight squeeze, too afraid to let go of him. “Please tell me one of those things isn’t in here!”

“You’ll be fiiiine. I'll be here to protect you baby.” His hands hadn't left Peter's sides, but the farmer didn't seem to mind. It’s not like Wade minded either, having such a pretty boy sitting on his lap was on his bucket list!

“You better not leave me, I swear I'll hate you forever.” the boy whispers into Wade's neck, his furious tone masking his genuine fear of the dark that Wade's fueling.

“Wasn't planning on it, doll, just stay close to me, I won't let a hair on your head be touched.” Wade didn’t expect his story to scare Peter  _ that _ bad, but this still works. Who’s protecting who now? He should scare him more often.

“Plus, I went this far for you, didn’t I?” And it’s true! He rescued Peter (kind of), he gave him blankets to sleep with, food, everything! He’s done everything for him. He thinks he deserves a little thank you.

“Yeah...um...thank you for that.” Did Peter really never give Wade a proper thank you? He could’ve sworn he did...oh well. “I really appreciate it, they would’ve caught me like an hour after I got away if you didn’t show up.”

Isn't that true. “Well you are welcome Petey-pie, I got some sweet ass company out of you sticking around, you're pretty funny. And extremely huggable, you're like a little portable koala bear- I bet I could pick you up just like this.”

Even though they couldn’t see each other right now, Wade could tell Peter was probably all blushy. He’s just so easy.

-

“Okay! Okay, that's it, we should go.” Peter rushes, leaning up from Wade's shoulder after a bucket load of ‘platonic’ teasing, but still in his lap.

“Whaaat? Nooo, why would you leave the Wilson ride so early, it was getting to the fun bit!” Wade complains, gently circling the small wrist that rests on his shoulder.

“No offense, but it’s really not that fun when you’re trapped in a cave.”

“Did you just admit that it  _ is _ fun if you ignore the cave bit?” He happily leers, their eyes having gotten used to the dark somewhat, so Peter could clearly see Wade lean closer with a teasing smile.

“In your dreams.” Peter brushed it off, but he was practically  _ screaming _ on the inside. He was sitting on Wade’s lap this entire time and he could just tell that he was p—

Don’t think about it!

“Now hurry up already! I don’t like this place.” Peter whined, trying not to get disappointed when Wade lets go of his side and his wrist.

When they eventually stood up Wade started to find another match again, scratching it against the jagged parts of his chest armor to light it. Peter had already silently panicked and had bumped arms with him until he managed to wrap himself around the warlocks bicep.

“You alright there, punkin?” He asks casually, the match catching and revealing the way Peter's cheek was softly squishing against his shoulder, looking up at him through his lashes like a goddamn angel. Peter could only respond with a curt nod after looking upon the vast emptiness the flame bounced off of, hundreds of tendrils of stalactites, all reaching down right above them. It's alright, Wade doesn't exactly mind a dame attached to his arm.

“Yaknow,” Wade starts, as they begin their walk down one of the many long winding halls made by the natural cave system. He shrugs off Peter's grip gently only to drape said arm over the boy's shoulders and keep him tight to his side, letting him grab his shirt again. He was shaking slightly. “It's okay to be scared of the dark, sugar bear, and not just the lil’ creepy crawlings at your toes, it's human nature to be wary of the unknown-"

“Gashmire. I know.”

“..What was that, honeybuns?”

“That’s quoted from Gashmire, Philosopher, studied the basis of human behaviours and primal reactions, what abilities are innate, how genetic predispositions between generations is how Abericks theory of adaptation is proven… I read a lot in my spare time.” 

“That's gotta be the hottest thing that i don't understand ever said to me.”

“No, it’s—“

“I’m a hands on learner though.”

Peter blinked up at Wade, lost. He doesn’t even understand what he meant by that but it probably meant something dirty. He's mostly forgotten the pure peril they're probably in right now just from Wade's distracting blabbering.

“I'm also a  _ visual _ learner, much like how I'm a visual teacher. It's funny, for as much as I talk you'd expect me to get something outta it. Apparently I've only ever learned shit through trial and error. I'm not a sexy sponge for knowledge like you are.” Wade was meant to rough up Peter's hair then, but he more ran his fingers through it than anything.

Peter tried to blame the cold or fearful nerves for the shudder that ran down his spine. Maybe a ghost! Definitely not Wade's hands massaging his scalp for a split second. Is this what it's like to go crazy?

“Anyway. I’ll light the way!” Wade placed his hand on the small of Peters back, guiding him to walk through the dark. He leans heavily into the magic users side, feeling the warmth from the palm at his back and having a sense of dissatisfaction. 

-

“Cutie-patootie come look at this! There's a wooden support beam here!” The match light reveals exactly that in the corridor they found themselves in, damp and decaying.

“Oh! That's good?” It felt like Wade expected him to know what that meant.

“We're in a mineshaft! That means we're getting closer to an actual exit! I told you I'd get us the fuck outta here. Man, when I was younger I'd get drunk and climb into the lil’ carts when no one was looking or go bear fishing.” Wade told him, waving his hands around and making all kinds of lively expressions that Peter somehow couldn’t get enough of. He’s quite the character, isn’t he?

“What's bear fishing?” 

“You'll find out eventually.” 

“Wow. You've done so much stuff, you travel everywhere, you have a mysterious past, it's like you're the opposite of me.” Peter didn't mean to sound so sad but it came out that way. He's stupid for making himself look pityful.

“Hey, don't say that, you've done plenty of exciting stuff! And you're only 19, the amount of fun little stories you can pepper into conversations can only go up from here. I'll even help add to the list if you'd let me.”

“You added quite enough already.” Peter laughed. It’s only been two days and he’s ran from  _ knights _ , learned how to use a sword (a little bit), and he’s exploring a cave! Can it really get any crazier?

“I dunno, I feel like I could add on a few locations for you. Cities, Empires, beaches, pirate ships. You deserve a lot more than the barren wilderness. I mean what's the point of seeing the pretty sights there if you're prettier than nature herself. You should shake it up a bit!”

Every word that came out of Wade’s mouth made Peter's face feel hot. He never thought about going on crazy adventures or seeing extraordinary places, his life was always just Aunt May and his books… until Wade came along. He’s turned Peter's world upside down, he didn’t have any schedules, any plans. He just did whatever!

“I don't know how I'd do it on my own like you, I'm not really that independent.”

“Don't worry, pet, I'll take you there. I'd take you anywhere you’d like.” At some point he'd stopped them, now facing each other with the match between them and Wade's hand still on his side. His eyes really are piercing.

“But I have so many things to do, I have a home, people waiting for me—“ Peter couldn’t just...give it all up. He planned his whole future out after he lost his uncle, how could he just change it all up now?

“I don't think they'd mind you having a little fun for once.”

Wade was so careless,  _ free _ . Peter envied it, not having any troubles or responsibilities. He wanted that—he wanted to not worry. But he can’t…

He can still have fun though, right?

The space between them had gotten much smaller, and their shared breaths were the only thing warm in this cold, dark cave.

In the cheesy romance novels May let him read from her shelf a few years ago when he finished all of his books three times over, this is the moment in all of them where the two Princesses kiss. Every time he read those stories he found himself disconnected from the characters, like he would never understand, and he assumed it was all overrated and gross. He doesn’t feel that way now.

He closed his eyes, ready to trust his instincts and lean in, but a subtle chattering in his left ear snapped him out of it.

He turned his face away from Wade, breaking the mood that the man had worked so hard to set. “Did you hear that?”

“It was probably just a bat, doe. Don't worry about it.” He was so fucking close, he will personally smite that bat for cockblocking him. With his free hand he finds Peters face gently cupped in his palm, turning the boy's attention back where it should be.

Peter decided to trust Wade, but he still felt a bit wary. It’s like they were being watched. “What if it’s a grabber? You said they hide in caves.”

Wade looks up with a subtle inhale, trying to hide his frustration. “It's not a grabber, Pete. I can fucking assure you that right now.” He grips his shoulder in reassurance.

“But how do you know?”

“Oh my fates, baby- whaaaaat the fuck was that, that was not a bat.” The chattering echoed through the old mine, causing the two men to huddle close to each other.

The light from the match wasn’t enough to reveal whatever was with them, but the multiple red beating eyes above them definitely was. Wade started backing up, but Peter was frozen in fear.

“ _ Peter _ . Just back away slowly.” Wade whispered to the boy, trying not to get the beast to attack them. When the warlock went to slowly reach for Peter's arm to pull him along, long glistening fangs the size of his forearm are revealed by the fire light bouncing off of them, appearing with a deep echoing hiss that they could feel in their feet.

Peter finally started to move, but he was still facing whatever that thing was as it glided down to the floor. In the limited light, Peter could see multiple long legs planting onto the ground, there were multiple joints and fur sticking out of them. It was like a tarantula.

Unlike Peter, Wade didn’t want to stick around and admire the damn thing. He yanked Peter's arm and started running, dragging him along. And he didn’t dare stop when he heard a loud, blood curdling shriek behind them.

Why did Peter have to run so much today? Is this a test? Was all of this a ploy May made to teach him about the importance of cardio and stranger danger?

The match had gone out from the air hitting it so fast, now there was nothing to help them see where they were going. All Peter could do was follow Wade’s lead and hope they wouldn’t trip or run into a dead end. And especially with the monster right behind him, snapping her jaw and hissing every time she got within arms length of Peter—he had to trust his best option.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Wade tried pulling Peter closer to him in an attempt to distance the boy from the spider, but even those gorgeous long legs couldn’t keep up all the way.

“Why don’t you just teleport us again?!” Peter shouted from over Wade’s shoulder, trying to be loud enough so Wade could hear him over the nightmare fuel spider screams.

“After a big one like that?! No can do, Petey! No one has infinite amounts of magic, if I teleport somewhere far then I can’t do it again for the next couple days.” Lame, right? If he knew his powers would be so uncool he probably wouldn’t have given up so much for them. Too late for that now. “Anyway, you’re smart, right?! Do you know anything about man eating spiders?!”

“ _ No _ ! I didn’t even know these things existed till now!” Peter made the mistake of looking back, the arachnid towered over him and glared like he was her next meal. This was terrifying. He didn’t know what to do! There’s no guide on how to escape monsters—at least not that he knows of! This shouldn’t be  _ real _ . Magic and giant creatures go against everything science has taught him! Like everything he learned on the farm was kitty play.

“Well looks like we’re both useless! It's like we were meant for eachother!”

“Oh screw you, Wilson!”

“ _ After _ we get away from spiderzilla!” Wade looked ahead, spotting a very subtle light up ahead on the right of them. It looked like there must be a corner they had to turn...and if there was light that could mean an opening.

He knows at least  _ one _ thing. Human smart. Spider not so smart. He’s a fucking  _ genius _ . 

“I’m about to  _ really _ impress you now, Petey!” Wade spoke in a very sing-song voice, as if they weren’t being chased at all right now.

“If we don’t die first!”

“Follow my lead!” He jerked on Peter's arm once again, the boy stumbling in those posh wanker shoes he still has on. “We’re gonna make a right! Be ready.”

As they got closer to the light, Peter seemed to understand a bit better. The cave was generally cold, but as they were running the temperature got higher. That meant the lighting wasn’t from a lamp or a torch, it had to be an opening.

Suddenly, Wade twists to the right, pulling Peter along with him. It really was a smart move, because behind them the spider wasn’t able to turn like them, causing her to slam right into the wall and become slightly impaired.

The path they now follow was clearer now, and they could see all of their surroundings, dimming evening light bouncing off crumbling walls, pure beams of orange sunlight stringing off from a heavenly exit at the end of the trail, and a bonus, because Wade is a genius, once the 8 legged beauty crawls through one of these beams to get to them she screeches, scuttling further away while trying to find a solution around the all encompassing light.

Peter looked back once again, but with an expression of relief and enjoyment. It wasn’t scary anymore now that they were almost out, if anything, it was  _ thrilling _ . His blood never rushed like this before, he’s never had this much energy. Escaping those guards, walking around the cave,  _ running from a humongous tarantula _ —all of it was amazing, exhilarating even. And when they were about to kiss… Wade turned his head back to him when he looked away! He’s getting butterflies just thinking about it. That stupid spider! She fu—

“Wait!” Wade shouted, stopping them dead in their tracks by slamming an arm out and stopping Peter's chest.

“Wade! We don’t have time for whatever this is,” Peter started, ducking from Wade’s arm and stepping forward. “We have to—hooollly moly!” He was now facing a large, pitch black abyss that he was two steps away from falling into. It looked like some kind of sinkhole with jagged pointy rocks sticking out of the side and a seemingly endless length.

“Just our luck!” Wade threw his hands up frustratingly and stared up at the cave ceiling. “Anything else you wanna throw at us?!” And as if the universe answered, a large stalactite fell right from the ceiling and down into the small ravine, never making a sound to prove that it hit the ground. “Well isn't that fucking peachy.” The grumpy warlock mutters.

He looks over his shoulder along with a nervously swallowing Peter at the beast trailing them, she looks like she couldn't go past a certain point before being too close to the light and hurting herself, scratching at the walls with eerily long limbs in a desperate manner, so they had time. On one hand, a man eating beast only a good 5 second jog away blocking their entrance back into the cave system, and the other, a ravine that seems interdimensionally deep blocking their exit to freedom.

Now, this wouldn’t be a problem for Wade, he’s jumped farther than this before… Peter on the other hand..

The boy has no experience with these types of problems, and he doubts he had the skill either. He could probably jump across first and close some distance by reaching his hand out to grab Peter when he jumped, but luck would have to be on his side for that. And she has  _ proven _ that she’s not. She fucking hates Wade's stupid dumb face.

What does he have to lose?

“I’m gonna jump.” He blurts, already backing up to get a running start.

“You’re  _ what?! _ ” Peter looked at Wade in disbelief. It would take a miracle for the man to jump that far! No normal human could do that. He estimated it’s at least 12 feet long, and a human can only jump 10 feet  _ at most _ , but even then… the average fit person can go up to 8. If Wade wanted to, he could make it a bit far and then teleport the rest of the way, but since he mentioned teleporting long distance drains his magical abilities he could probably only make it a foot farther and then fall. Not only that, cave floors are  _ not _ the perfect surface for jumping, you’d need something that your shoes can grip onto and— 

Before he knew it, Wade was running right past him, a blur of dirty blonde spikes and dashing good looks barreling over the gaping ravine with an impressive airtime, palms landing squarely onto the other side as he rolled defensively to catch his fall.

Peter didn’t even have time to register how Wade managed to do that, it was insane. Did those powers include superhuman strength and stamina? He doesn’t even look phased!

Amazing.

_ Sloppy _ .

Wade looked back at the ravine, watching the rocks on his side tumble down and make the gap even bigger.  _ Fuck _ . Peter cannot jump that far, he knows it for a fact. And the clock was ticking with that angry fuzzball growing restless.

He’d have to take the risk, but if it doesn’t work then he’ll need a backup plan. But what  _ kind _ of plan.

While he thought, he mindlessly fiddled with the rope strapped to his holster. Think smart! What would Peter suggest?

Slowly, he looked down at the rope, and his eyes lit up in thought. Ohhhhh!

“Pete!” Wade called to the boy, getting his attention. “I know I’ve said this a lot today, but you’re  _ really _ gonna have to trust me right now.”

“For the millionth time, I  _ trust you! _ ” It was such a frequent question, Peter almost didn’t have to think about it before he answered. But Wade only asks him that when he’s about to do something crazy…

“What are you planning?” He asked, skeptical.

Wade started walking away, kicking at the stalagmites around him to test their durability. “Pete, do you know how much a normal rope can pull?” He asked, not explaining himself at all.

“Wade…” Peter narrowed his eyes.

“This is important!”

“ _ Ugh _ . Let me think.” Peter curled his index finger and then placed it on his chin. At the farm they used rope a lot when they needed the horses to pull something. One rope alone dragged around the horse rake pretty well and those things are like 500 pounds at least.

“400 maybe?” He guessed. It wasn’t exactly the same kind of rope they used at home, but it was close enough. “Now tell me what you’re doing.”

Wade started tying one end of the rope to a sturdy stalagmite he had kicked a couple times for good measure, then pulled on the rope with all his might to make sure it wouldn’t come undone. “Okay, now this is gonna sound really crazy,”

“I don’t like the way you started that sentence.”

“But you’re gonna have to jump.” Wade now tied the rope around his waist and approached the edge. Looking at Peter with a serious face.

“Are you insane?!”

“Completely.”

“I can’t make it across that! I’ll fall!”

“I won’t let you fall.”

Peter hesitated, looking at Wade and then looking behind him at the spider. There was no other option and she seemed like she was just about ready to ignore the brightness and charge at him.

_ You have to trust me _ . Those words lingered in Peter's head, how far is he willing to go based on if he trusts Wade or not? How many more times will he be put in danger like this?

“ _ Peter _ .” Wade said again, hoping to stop him from spacing out. “We don’t have time to think about this! If you trust me you’ll do it. Just  _ jump _ !”

He does trust him.

Peter took a few steps back, feeling stiff, afraid, and worried all at once. He knows Wade will try to stop him from falling, but can he  _ really _ do it? No! Don’t think like that, Pete! Wade can do it, he can save you.

Just as he started to sprint, so did the spider, catching up to him within an instant. He felt it, he felt her fangs graze his vest and trousers as he jumped, ripping through both of them effortlessly and exposing some of his skin.  _ But he lived _ and he was  _ so _ close to making it to the other side, but when he extended his hand out to grab Wade’s,  _ he missed _ .

Now he was falling, staring blankly at the light from the crack. His mind was blank, he didn’t know what to think. He didn’t even scream.

How could he miss? His whole life is over because he  _ missed _ . He should’ve ran back a little farther, he should’ve tried a little harder—

He never should have gone out by himself.

All of this, it’s his own fault.  _ He _ went out into the forest  _ knowing _ it was dangerous,  _ he  _ didn’t fight back when those guards took him,  _ he _ put Wade in this situation.

He closed his eyes just as the tears started welling up. He never did live his life to the fullest, did he? He barricaded himself up in his room and chose to read all day instead of going out and enjoying the outside world. He could’ve had friends, he could’ve spent more time with his aunt, so much time  _ wasted _ .

He opened his eyes to look up one last time, to appreciate the last bit of light, but when he did, something was blocking it. It looked like a figure of a person… Was he already dead? Is this the start of his afterlife?

There was a hard grip on his wrist, his body dangling below Wade's silhouette, dangling in a similar manner, whilst also holding onto the rope tied to his middle. Wade tugged Peter up until his arms easily enveloped his middle.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”

That voice… that face…

Wade saved him.

He didn’t let him fall.

Peter stared up at him, eyes wide and terrified, but soon his lip started to quiver and his eyes grew glossy.  _ He saved him _ .

He threw his arms over Wade’s shoulders and squeezed him tight, pressing his face against his chest and sobbing uncontrollably.

“Pete—“

“I want to go everywhere with you! I want to see the cities, the ocean, the empires! Just like you said, I  _ want that _ . I want you to teach me how to fight, how to have fun, how to  _ live _ !  _ Please don’t let me go _ .” The boy whimpered out every word straight from his heart. He’s tired of living a boring life, he wants to have stories he can tell, he wanted to live every day as if it was his last, he wanted to die without any regrets, he wanted so much.

He wanted Wade.

_ He wanted him so bad _ .

“Pete! Pete! It’s okay, calm down! I won’t let you go.” Wade did his best to comfortingly stroke Peters back while they were in this position, but the effort hardly did anything for them.

He’s never been good at  _ verbally _ comforting people, that’s why he always resorted to physical touch… but what is he supposed to do now? Peter was still crying and it’d be really hard to get them both back up when he’s not cooperating.

They might have to ‘baby monkey’ this.

Or he can stop being a pussy and  _ try _ to comfort Peter.

Screw you, conscience!

“ _ Petey _ , I know that probably scared the living shit out of you, I’m  _ really _ sorry I made you do that but it was the only way.” He tries, but the mediocre apology just didn’t seem like enough to get the boy to stop shaking.  _ Think, Wilson! _

“We can go wherever you want once we get out of here, fuck, I’ll even take you to the end of the world if you wanted. But if we want to do that you  _ really _ need to calm down, okay? Do you think you can do that for me?” That was so cheesy, but feeling Peter relax in his arms made it worth it.

“How’re we getting out?” The farmer mumbles, expectedly timid after Wade's little cookie cutter speech.

“I need to let go of your middle, so can you wrap your legs around me so you don't slip off my shoulders? Can you do that for me, baby?” Wade was speaking to him in a very calming voice, one that made Peters brain melt and his heart scream. He loved it.

“I can! I can do that!” He spoke up and started scooting up Wade’s body until he could firmly wrap his legs around his waist. 

“ _ fuck, _ yes you can.” The stranger mutters, almost straining for some unknown reason. His large palms leave Peter's middle to firmly grab under his thighs and hitch him a bit higher.

Now they were practically at eye level, causing Peter to feel a bit hot for some reason. It made him think about that moment they had deep in the cave again… what if they did end up kissing? He’s never properly kissed anyone before! He’d be so bad at it. Wade’s probably good at it though, he's older, he doesn't know by how much but he's certainly older enough to be experienced. He could teach Peter how if he asked maybe…

Ahh! Who is he kidding?! That’s so embarrassing, he shouldn’t think like that! But he can’t stop thinking about Wade that way! He really  _ really _ likes him, and he wanted Wade to like him too. He says and does all these nice things, and he calls Peter those cute names that he tries to convince himself that he hates.

“What are you thinking about, honey-pie?” Wade coos teasingly.

Oh jeez! He’s talking to him,  _ say something! _

“Pirates!”

“Oh, sweet! Me too.” Wade was already on his way to pulling them back up, reaching an arm above them on the rope and twisting his feet around the excess below them, he was surprisingly swift. 

And strong. Peter is trying not to daydream right now, but watching Wade’s muscular form go to work was  _ amazing _ . He was carrying his own weight and Peter's weight, that is a lot. He could probably pick Peter up so easily and hold him without getting tired.

He sighed dreamily and laid his cheek on Wade’s collarbone, but the man doesn’t tease him about it or anything. He’s probably too distracted.

The light at the top was darker from the rapid evening light, dusk starting to form past the array of clouds. Wade gets Peter over and onto the edge before himself, following then rolling onto his back just to catch up to his mind and breath.

“What a fucking day, huh?” He asks, head turning to the side to spot Peter, also on his back, the two shoulder to shoulder.

“I want to sleep for like two full weeks after all that.” Pete groaned, looking up at the rocky ceiling. That was way too much action for one day, he didn’t even get to have lunch  _ or  _ dinner, but after almost becoming spider food he’s lost his appetite. “Sorry for dragging you into this big mess.”

“What? Petey that’s  _ hilarious _ . I’ve dealt with way worse.” He once escaped a guarded prison with stale bread, a toothpick, and pure determination. This was easy. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

The boy next to him went silent and rolled so that his back was now facing Wade.

Wade frowned.

“Was that your first near death experience?” He sat up, looking at Peter as the boy nodded. That made sense.

He’s seen  _ and _ experienced that too many times. A lot of people start to feel regret after it happens, others may go completely insane. And since Peter has never been put in a situation like that before, it must be harder on him.

“Yeah… it’s real scary, sorry I didn’t catch you.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. What else could he say?

“It’s not your fault, I just…” Peter shut himself up and curled into a little sad ball, staring at the cold floor.

Wade can't do this for much longer, he’s not the sweet comforting guy, he’s the bad boy! But fuck, something made him want to try for Peter.

“Death is really hard, Peter. Especially when you’ve never experienced it before.”

“But that’s the thing!” The boy blurted. “I  _ have _ experienced it—well not me, but someone I cared about.”

Ah shit. Dead boyfriend? Dead girlfriend? Most likely his Dad, who the fuck has one or more dads these days?

“Don’t you think the person you cared about would want you to move on?” That’s something people say to comfort others, right?

“I could have done something.”

Ouch. That’s a lot of baggage. Baggage that Wade is really unwilling to unpack for Peter right now.

“It’s out of your control.”

“No it wasn’t!” Peter finally sat up, looking at Wade with heartbroken eyes. “I’m tired of people saying that to me! No one understands, they just pretend like they do!”

Wade probably understands more than Peter realizes, but he won’t tell him that. Not in a million years. Everyone has their own problems that they have to deal with!

“Maybe they do understand—“

“ _ They don’t. _ They weren’t there!” Peter wasn’t willing to listen to whatever Wade was trying to say, it was the same stuff he hears over and over again.

“That’s not the point though. I’m just tired of being powerless against everyone. I want to be able to fight off the knights who chase after me, or the spiders that want to eat me. I want to be my own person, Wade! I realized that when I was falling. I thought I was going to die a nobody, now I want to be a somebody.”

Even through the sadness, Wade could see a fire in Peter's eyes that reminded him of how he used to be when he was younger, before reality kicked in. People with that mindset hardly survive in this world, too big expectations for themselves. Too many high hopes. Guess someone's going to have to look after him.

“I can’t promise you everything you want, but I can help a little.” Why? He doesn’t fucking know, but it’ll make Peter happy. He’ll believe himself or some shit like that.

“Really?”

“Yep. I’m gonna teach you a new lesson every day about fighting and self defense. Not just how to hold a sword properly.” The more he talked, Peter's expression seemed to lift. He had this cute little smile on his face, it was priceless. He needs to fucking protect that expression.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Peter jumped onto Wade, pulling him into a big hug. With Wade teaching him he won’t be defenseless anymore! He can protect the people he cares about. He’ll just train really hard.

Wade was the one sigh dreamily this time, this guy gives the best hugs, especially when he's not bummed about baggage Wade doesn't even fucking know about.

Even though they’ve been out in the forest for two days and are probably sweating a lot from running, Wade could smell Peter’s faint shampoo in his hair. He probably smells good all the time, like berries and sunshine and shit. He pushed his nose further into Peter's mess of curls, inhaling quietly. Is it weird to smell people’s hair when they aren’t paying attention? He can’t help it! He gets too curious.

He actually kind of likes this,

_ But it won’t last _ .

He gently put his hands on Peter's shoulders and created some space between them. “We should get outta here before spiderzilla decides to risk that jump too. We wouldn't want her to get…  _ antsy _ .” 

Peter looked a little lost for a moment, blinking down at Wade’s arms and then back to his face. The man always got really awkward in these types of situations, Peter didn’t understand it. It’s like he isn’t used to affection.

“Yeah…  _ yeah, _ let’s go.” Peter stood up and brushed the dirt off of his green trousers, only to spot the rip on his outer thigh again. He couldn’t believe he was that close to a real monster, he felt the smooth front of her fang touch his skin.

“Yikes! That could’ve been a nasty cut.” Wade seemed to have taken notice of it too. “You can wear some of my clothes, I might have stuff that’s too small to fit me.”

_ Wade’s clothes? _ But he’s much bigger than Peter, he probably couldn’t fit in them—but they’d be all big and cozy on him and they'd be  _ Wade's. _

“Okay! Um, thank you! I really appreciate it.” Peter jumbled over his own words trying to get something out. Wade made him get flustered over the smallest things.

“Oh the pleasure is mine, punkin.” He lifts his two pinkies to his lips, blowing in a specific way he's perfected over the years as a high whistle escapes his tongue and rattles through the trees just like it did their first meeting.

“If those fuckers hurt her I'm hunting down each and every one of them with the dullest blade I own.” He mutters, clear enough for Peter to hear, before repeating the impressive sound.

They both hear a loud winney coming their way, and Wade reacts by running out of the cave entrance and opening his arms wide as if the horse was going to hug him. 

“Betty!” He shouted happily, wrapping his arms around her neck when she trotted up to him. “I’m sorry I put you through that! Those bastards didn’t lay a finger on you, right? My poor sweet thing, it’ll  _ never _ happen again.”

Peter caught all of that last bit as he walked out too, trying not to laugh out loud in order to not ruin their “moment”. It was cute, it made him think of his horse back on the farm.

“Say no more!” Wade reached into Betty’s saddlebag and pulled out a couple sugar cubes, holding them up and allowing her to eat them. “You deserve it for all your hard work.”

Oh right. Peters here.

Wade gave Betty one last firm pat and then let go of her, clearing his throat. “Betty likes to have moral support.” He explained to the boy, who looked like he was two seconds away from laughing his fat ass off.

“ _ No I get it _ .” He says, still holding it all in.

“I don’t do that all the time.”

“I’m sure.”

“Well good. I'm making sure you  _ know _ I don't pamper my horse like a show pony. She's a  _ beast _ , and  _ I _ am manly.” Wade tried to get his point further across, pointing at the boy like he's accusing him of something.

“I completely understand.” Peter inhaled deeply, stopping himself from almost losing it. Wade had a kind heart, he should show that more often.

“ _ Good _ . We should get a move on before they come back.” Wade adjusted Betty’s saddle and checked all of the pouches and satchels to make sure nothing was missing. It looked like they didn’t find Betty probably. “ _ You did an amazing job. _ ” He whispered to her, hoping Peter wouldn’t notice.

“I can’t believe the sun is setting already. Were we really in there for that long?” Peter asked, looking up at the sky. It only felt like a couple minutes—but they did just sit there for awhile… Y’know… talking about whatever..

“Time flies when you’re being hunted down by knights and spiders, Petey! It also keeps the blood pumping.” The warlock takes a hold of his waist once again, hoisting him onto the saddle of the black mare. But Peter wasn’t really paying attention.

“If you stare at the sun for too long you might just go blind and little fireflies will replace your eyeballs.” Wade looked at the boy, who just kept looking on. The sun shined on all of Peter's most amazing features, he looked like an angel ascending from above. 

“But just look at it, Wade, it's beautiful!” He exclaims, entranced by the pinks and blues that reflected in his eyes.

“Yeah. It really is beautiful.” Wade replies, breathless, still captivated by the boy.

The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 


	5. The Sun

“Why're you always picking me up?”

“Why not? It's like picking up and holding a handsome toad very dearly. That's a compliment, by the way, I love toads.”

“forget i asked.”

Having little to no idea where they are or where they're heading, trying to find a place for the night turned out to be surprisingly easy, they got a lucky find.

It was a large area concealed by thick trees and foliage, but on the other side was a large lake with a beautiful waterfall crashing down, the pair found the location by following the sound of running water. And just above, the sun had settled nicely, reflecting all of her beautiful colors into the loch.

The forest had gone silent with the impending night, leaving the two with their own thoughts and conversations by the bank. 

Wade practically leaps off his mare, helping Peter down hastily as well, only to start unhooking his belt with rushed hands. The boy could only stare with a confused grimace.

“May I ask what in the living fu-"

“Take off your clothes.” 

Peter's first instinctual reaction was to slap Wade's stubbled face, his head snapping to one side from the force of it.

“I deserve that- but that's  _ not _ what I meant.” He shucks off his cloak, whispering a childish ’owie’ to himself. “Ever been skinny dipping? You must have.” The man made a humorous image, hopping on one foot as he tried escaping his left boot.

“Only by myself.” And even then it was into shallow warm waters.

“Ah, the classic solo-dipping.” The warlock agrees with a wise nod, reaching two arms over his broad back to tug off his shirt over his head, walking off while he does so. “We're not doing that today though, Cherry-pie.” He walks backwards once his head is freed, addressing the indecisive looking boy. 

Trying to keep one's eyes up North in this scenario was harder than Peter anticipated. Wade was lean and defined, scattered with paling scars, having a large upper body but still maintaining a thick lower half. He looks like he could break a metal bar in half without even trying. 

“punkin, eyes up here.” He interrupts finally, doing his best to catch Peter's eye and point to his own face. The knowing smile on the sharp toothed man meant he didn't actually mind.

Oh but Peter minded. He was a little more than embarrassed for staring at Wade like that, he really didn’t mean to. “I’m sorry!” He needed to control himself! It was rude to look at other people that way, he should know better!

“Oh, don't be.” While Peter was looking into the lake instead he heard the drop of a belt then was too late to witness the man all but leap into the body of water. It was probably freezing in there but it didn’t seem like Wade cared. The man was just splashing around and swimming as if it was some kind of hot spring.

He comes back up with his hip up exposed, slicking back the wet spikes from dripping in his face with a grin so pleased and relaxed it was as if he were soaking in a warm bath with black orchids. “Come on in, Petey! The water feels so nice and nippy, it really wakes you up.”

Peter hesitated, not sure if he really had the same confidence to get undressed in front of another person like Wade. He gets shy just being shirtless!

“I'm not that sure, Wade, I mean what if one of us gets hypothermia or something-"

The eye roll Wade pulls off is a full body motion, his head tilting up and his shoulders slumping. “Peter! You asked me to teach you how to survive! So guess what? we're starting right here, right now. Lesson numero uno, LIVE A LITTLE!” His arms open as he shouts, falling backwards past the surface of the lake like he's never felt fear.

Peter gulped, still unsure but… didn’t he want this? He said he’d live life to the fullest so he should take the risk, right? For all he knows, nothing bad could happen at all.

He has to stop worrying about the what ifs.

He started undressing, ripping off his shirt and vest so fast that his mind had no time to make him worry. But he did give Wade enough time to woop behind him.

However, when he curled his thumbs into the hem of his pants, he felt anxious. He was about to get naked, like,  _ naked _ in front of  _ Wade _ . He needed to keep his cool or else this could turn really awkward in the worst way possible.

He braced himself, inhaling deeply and then exhaling as soon as he pulled his pants and boxers down together. The air was warm, and the subtle breeze was somehow comforting.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

He approached the shallow end of the lake, looking down at the water as if he was worried something would stab his foot or eat his toes, which is a possibility!—shut up! You’re getting paranoid again, Peter!

He’ll just take it slow, no biggie.

He dipped one of his toes in the water, and regretted it almost immediately. It was  _ freezing _ , how did Wade just jump in like that!

“Hurry up, Peter! The longer you take the worse it’s gonna feel, just jump in.” Wade whined from where he was watching in the distance. This boy is too indecisive for his own good, instead of living every day like it was his last he lives like death is waiting for him right around the corner. He needs to get him to let loose.

And he had the perfect idea.

A devilish smile spread across his face before he sunk all the way into the water without Peter noticing.

“Well  _ sorry  _ I’m not an absolute psychopath like you. This water is far from nice!” He shouted to Wade without looking over at him. How is he supposed to get used to this? He’s gonna freeze before the water even gets to his shoulders.

_ Relax, relax, relax.  _ He told himself, but it was hard to listen. He can’t  _ not _ be careful, he could get sick and then what?! It’s not like Wade had any medicine on him. You should be able to have fun  _ and  _ be safe, what’s wrong with being cautious? If anything, it’s weirder to  _ not  _ worry.

As he thought more about it, he was starting to step back. It’s not worth it. Wade can swim just fine without him.

He’ll just get his clothes on and watch the moon rise—

“ _ Gotcha! _ ” Out of nowhere, Wade is right in front of him, wrapping his arms around the doe’s waist and lifting him in the air. “You should have never left your pirate ship! Now I will have my revenge!”

“Wade!”

With Peter squirming in his hold, he backed up back into the lake until it was safe enough to fall in, the boy coming down with him with a big enough splash to disturb some nearby birds.

They’re both only under water for a few seconds before Peter rises to the surface and gasps for air.

“You fu—“

“Boo!” Wade sprung out in front of him, smiling wide as if he was proud of what he did.

“Why did you do that?!” Peter splashed Wade in the face.

“Because  _ you _ weren’t getting in! Learn how to have some fun, Petey!” As they go back and forth, Wade’s hands are still resting on Peters hips, his thumbs circling into the squishy skin. “You need to stop worrying about everything around you, how many times do I gotta get that in your big brain?”

“But if I stop worrying something bad could happen!”

“And if you do worry that same thing could very well happen. Worrying doesn’t stop things from happening, so let go.”

“And if it does happen and I’m not ready for it?” Peter raised an eyebrow.

“Then worry about it when it happens. It's never as big a deal as you think it is.”

“You don’t make any sense.”

He knew Peter was going to say that. The doe was as stubborn as a mule, he liked that a lot about him. He liked the challenge.

“Well the water isn’t so cold now, is it?” He asked, pulling Peter closer to him and swaying him around in the water.

“Huh?”

“Now that you got in, the water isn’t cold?”

“Well, no it’s not, but—“

“So there’s nothing to worry about anymore.” Wade hummed, dragging Peter deeper into the water until it was to his shoulders.

“But you know what?” He leaned in close to Peter, smiling at him in that charming way he always did. It’s like he knew what it does to the people around him, like he knew what it did to  _ Peter _ .

“Wh- What?” The boy asked, the tiny space between them making him feel claustrophobic in the best way.

But just as it seemed like Wade was going to lean in closer, he squeezed Peters hips and pulled him straight down into the water.

He couldn’t see or hear anything down here, but Wade’s nose brushing against his was enough for him to know that they were still so close—yet so far. It’s like every time Peter gets his hopes up the universe rips it all away from him. 

The desperate gasp for air was just like the first time, his lungs shivering and his curls flattened to cover his eyes. They were, anyway, until a gentle hand was combing them back from his forehead, massaging finger running down his scalp in order to get every stray stand slicked back. He hadn't realized he closed his eyes from the sensation until he opened them.

Now he was face to face with Wade again, the man looking at him with an expression that he’s never really seen him make. His eyes looked softer, and he was smiling sweeter, no underlying egocentrism or mischief, just viewing what must be something beautiful if it makes a man like Wade melt.

He can't really connect in his mind that Wade was looking at  _ him _ .

“You’re a jerk, you know that?” Peter decided to pull Wade out of his hypnotic state by putting his hand on his face and pushing him backwards. “I’m gonna get you back for that.”

“Sure you will, Petey.”

“Are you doubting me?”

“Of course not, I would never! I'm just insininiting that I'm looking forward to it.”

“..Don't you mean insinuating?”

“Gesundheit.”

It's the same damn joke that gets Peter again, lips curling up and nose scrunching as the snort escapes him, a hand coming down on Wade's shoulder like the man is forcing him to laugh with mind control and hitting him is the only way to stop it. He had such a beautiful laugh.

While the doe was distracted, Wade lifted him up in his arms and started spinning him around, looking in awe as it only made him laugh more. The boy's hands on his shoulders was something Wade didn't realize he was missing all his life.

Was he selfish to want to drag out this entire trip so he didn’t have to take Peter home? He’d do it eventually! Just not now, not when he wanted him like this.

As Peters laughing died down, Wade returned back up to the more shallow end of the lake, stopping when the water got at his hips. “See? Fun doesn’t hurt.” He brought his hand up to Peter's face, caressing the smooth skin of his cheek.

“Okay,” Peter says, still sounding a bit giggly. “I get it.”

“ _ Finally _ .” Wade teased, now poking at the cheek with his index finger.

He was expecting Peter to innocently flirt back like he usually does, not swipe his heel and send him flying back into the water without him. It is fucking  _ on. _

Wade comes back up cradling the back of his head with one hand, wincing. “Shit Pete I think you got me to hit my crown, fuckin’, ow, can you check-?” 

Peter was instantly apologising every way he knew how, how could he be so stupid to let Wade get hurt over the one thing he was worried about! He reaches up over Wade's shoulder to check for blood but the Warlock already had his wrists trapped, reaching for his thigh then wrenching Peter up over his shoulder like a sack of screaming sweet potatoes.

“Got ya right where I want ya!” Wade put on his villain voice again, hauling Peter around in the water. “Here’s a good tip for ya, Pirate captain Peter:  _ never  _ let yer guard down.”

“You pirate bastard!” The boy screeches over his new found laughter, not appreciating how close he is to tipping right back into the drink. However, he secretly appreciates being manhandled like this, you would think Peter would be opposed to that sort of thing, after everything, but no, even to Peter's surprise, because it's  _ Wade _ he actually enjoys it.

“Squirm all ya want! Nothing will keep me from my booty!” He can say that without it sounding weird because pirates say that all the time!  _ However _ , he cannot ignore the fact that he is side by side with the best ass in this forsaken land. What would happen if he just-

He never had his ass slapped before, frankly not a firm hit, but it still made him gasp with a mix of surprise, frustration and an unknown third party.

The way Peter was positioned was so that he could see down the expanse of Wade's defined back, but also the top of his tail bone before the rest of him was submerged in the depths, so slapping his ass back harder wasn't a problem. He even cackled at the startled cat impression he pulled out the man.

“ _ Oh _ . You think you’re funny, huh?” Wade took Peter by his thin waist, lifting him all the way up in the air like a dancer and tossed him right into the deep water like it was nothing, but as if that wasn’t enough, he dove in right after him and decided to attack from underwater.

You see, being an idiot is an absolute advantage because Wade opens his eyes when he’s under water. Peter doesn’t. He manages to grab an ankle, pulling it towards him, but gets it kicked out of his hand by a rogue leg that then pushed at his chest. He can see Peter went up for air, but Wade doesn't need to yet.

Peter frantically tried to search around him to spot a sign of Wade, his ‘attacker’, but his own unsteady arms wafting to keep him above the surface meant he couldn't focus on movements below him. He felt him after it was two late. Two strong hands grip under his thighs, pulling him under once again as they're wrapped around a firm abdomen, he knew it was the same position as their cave escape, but being naked it made quite a large difference.

He was getting sick of his ears popping now, the settling evening now wafting past him, Wade close to his face once again, but instead of a witty retort his cheeks were just full like a chipmunk.

“...No, you wouldn't.”

The look in Wade's eyes meant he would.

A thin but powerful stream of water left Wade's puckered lips and hit the boy's face, disturbingly warm.

“You savage!” He cries, pushing at his chest to get Wade away from him and the onslaught, ignoring how he physically can't while he's wound around him like a may pole.

“Surrender!” Wade orders, smile wide and victorious.

“Never!” Peter rebels, arms now wrapped around Wade's neck.

Maybe it was stupid, finding this exact moment to be when they fall silent in eachothers eyes, after a fight not above the dignity of two 9 year olds. But Wade doesn't seem to care, or rather quite the opposite.

It's scary how much he cares about the thin fingers settling around the back of his neck, forearms resting on shoulders, how warm honey pot eyes seem to make him freeze up in anticipation. For what? He couldn't tell you. The bumbles weren't making a bees nest out of his stomach lining for any old simple peck on the cheek. It felt like his life was taking a complete and utter U turn, all by standing here, breathing with another soul.

Taking leaps wasn't a pastime of Peters, but apparently it's turning into a hobby. He's never anticipated someone to look at him like that, or treat him like that, or hold him like, that. Yet that's all this man is, unfulfilled stereotypes, subverted expectations; no one ever seems prepared to encounter him. Sure, some of his jokes were a little bad and he was super spontaneous, but Peter found out he liked that! It seemed to match his dry humour and weariness of the world. Two matching pieces, completely useless on their own, like the trusty wood lock on the sheep pen’s gate. Ben carved it from the same tree.

“Do you live like this? Every day?” The boy whispers, Wade felt a crease form on Peter's brow from where their foreheads rest together. He's always quick to hold all his tension right there, between his eyebrows.

“I don't usually skinny dip with pretty boys every night, but yeah.”

The light shove Wade got made him smile.

“What I  _ meant _ , was,” Wade takes a moment to phrase it correctly, he never has to do this, he just says what he thinks and doesn’t think before speaking, that's how his brain works, but right here he  _ wants _ to think about this.

“I normally don't have the company.”

“You should really think before you speak.” 

“Can’t do that, baby. It’s my character trait. When have I ever been one to multitask?”

“I wouldn't know Wade, I’m not in your head.” Peter rolled his eyes.

_ Oh if only you knew _ .  _ “ _ You seem to be  _ pretty close _ to being in my head right now though.”

“That’s because  _ you _ got close to  _ me _ .” 

“And low and behold you're not batting me off with a ten foot pole, funny that isn't it?”

“You talk way too much.” The doe jeered.

“Oh ho ho! Trying to shut me up because I’m right, huh?” Wade accused, pulling Peter closer so that they were now pressed together. “I like how you always listen.” He mutters, meaning it to be an inside thought.

“It’s because you like me, don’t you?” Like a child, Wade twirled Peter around in the water again. “Peteys got a cruu-ush! Peteys got a cruu-ush!”

“No I don't! In fact, I hate you!” He's blushing more over the playground level teasing than being naked in front of someone for the first time, Wade really was an enigma.

“I know you do, if ‘I hate you’ is code word for ‘I like you and think you're super mega ultra sexy’, that is.” Peter hit his arm for that one, earning him a genuine whispered shout through a permanent smile.

“Oh that is it! Yaknow what, Pete, I hate you too.”

“Aha! You fell for your own trap! ‘I hate you’ means- oh.” Seeing Peter go through the steps of realization was so very close to breaking the serious but tender look he put on, he didn't want Peter thinking it was a joke of his, for once. He had his own way of displaying his emotions.

It was weird, not being able to sense anything else around you other than the person you held onto, it was what Wade imagined falling from the sky would be like. Peter thought it felt more like a hole in the space time continuum, no seconds moving forward as masses of atoms fail to exist in this state. Like a ballroom for nebulae.

“When did we start spinning?”

“Couldn't tell you, doe. We can stop if you want.”

“No!” Peter blurted, but then cleared his throat right after. “ _ No _ , um, I’m okay with this.”

“As you wish.” Wade obeys, head swaying softly as if mesmerized by music no one else could hear. Mostly violins.

The left hand palming Peter waist smooths up the side of his ribs, making the boy shiver and chest expand from his sudden inhale, but the feeling leaves him swiftly as that same palm travels further up the soft underside of his arm, naturally dislodging the grip around Wade's neck. He reaches Peter's wrist then keeps the smaller palm locked in his, the limb pliant to Wade's endeavours as he extends their combined arms outwards.

It took Peter a second but realizes Wade is making them dance, truly dance, not sword fight as pirates but mimic the shadows of May and Ben waltzing in the living room until their feet ache. 

Peter never understood why May and Ben did that. To him, dancing seemed like a waste of time—and why do something that makes your feet hurt anyway? It just didn’t make sense. But alas, just like the setups in Mays romance novels he never understood, he gets it now. He gets all of it. How could Wade so easily look into Peter's eyes and know to give him everything he didn't know he needed? How.

“I've only known you for two days.” The doe states in disbelief. 

“It feels like forever.” Wade added, for something so cheesy why did it feel so right?

Now they stand quietly, peaceful knowing that the conversation ended because they’ve said all they needed.

Who needs words anyway?

Peter makes contact first, a rush of energy buzzing through him as he makes the leap that's two inches wide, his eyes screw up as if he held them tight enough his doubts of rejection would disappear. He didn't want his first kiss to have never meant to happen with an unwilling party.

Whatever move he did make it seems to be instantly reciprocated as the lips he leaned forward to graze with his own have surged towards him and locked together so perfectly he expected a full orchestral swell to climax behind them on the bank.

Peter didn’t have any experience with kissing, but he could see that this is why people did it, all his insides are floating in his ribcage, like a specimen in a jar, yet it wasn't isolating, it was freeing, letting go of any tension he's ever felt, jelly in his skull.

By now, Wade took more control over the kiss—he couldn’t help it, Peters lips were so soft, enticing him to make it last. He’s fucked around with a lot of people, but it didn’t feel like that with Peter. He wasn’t trying to get anything out of this, he just wanted to feel him close. He hasn’t felt that in a long time. At Least not until now, what with Peter melted into him, scorching and sticking to his skin like boiling honey drowning him, sweet and thick and filling up his lungs.

It only took two days for this boy to come in and flip his whole world around, he was fucking hooked on him. His smartass quips, that little face he makes when he gets shy, he never seems to talk down to him, or grant him stupid even if the boy is clearly always two miles ahead of him in that fast fire noggin of his. And most of all, he trusts him. For a reason Wade can’t comprehend he's trusted him since the moment they met.

There are fingers through Wade’s spikes, combing them back and tugging his head down to deepen an already delectably desperate kiss, Peter seems to know what he wants, and will  _ get _ what he wants, and Wade  _ loves that _ in a man. He engulfed Peter in his arms, squeezing him so tight as if he was about to leave, but the boy hadn’t moved an inch.

Somehow Wade hasn't combusted from Peter's idea to kitten lick into his mouth, although his eyes started rolling back into his head with a groan before he all but delved into the doe's parted lips.

For a man who couldn’t die, he was sure it was about to be over for him. He was dizzy and lightheaded, getting lost in the noises Peter was making, losing his breath the longer they stayed this way. Wade's never been one for painting but this certainly felt like artwork in motion.

Wade was unbelievably talented doing this, he knew exactly when to touch him and where, how hard to squeeze and how light to run faint fingers up his spine to make him shiver. He was embarrassed by all the sounds Wade was pulling out of him, he was a harp Wade was plucking at will, a musician manipulating his instrument.

The kiss goes on for as long as they can manage, but Peter finally pulls back to catch a full breath; though, Wade wasn’t ready to stop and tried to kiss his lips, whining like a sad dog when Peter laughed at him and shoved his face. He lifted him up and out the water, spinning him for the last time with joyous barks of laughter.

“You’re too much.” Peter smiled at the other man, who was now trying to wiggle his eyebrows as a way to seduce him into another kiss.

“Just you wait, sweetheart.” There was a joke in there, but he’s pretty sure Peter wouldn’t get it until later. Wink wink. That beastly spider's not the only monster around here.

“Can we get out now?”

“As you wish, my sweet prince.” Wade hooked one of his arms under Peter's knees and pressed another flat palm against his back, lifting him up bridal style and snickering when he squeaked in surprise. “I shall carry you through no man's land!”

He took the boy to the shoreline, holding in a smile when he started to shiver. “Cold there, doe? You know, I got a little  _ something  _ that can warm ya up.”

“That blanket? Yes please, it’s  _ way _ too cold.” Peter's teeth chattered.

Not what he meant but that works too. He got Peter to his feet, rummaging around in his supply bag until he found that one towel he had that's too small to use as a blanket but big enough to not throw away. He lightheartedly ordered the doe to put his arms up in the voice of his old drill sergeant, rubbing the fabric over shaking ribs and a thin waist. He purposefully dragged the cloth up from Peter's navel all the way to his collarbone and dry off his raised shoulders. He took especially long around his ass.

Peter's never had a full body pat down like this before, especially not one that made him squeak like pinky, the youngest of the litter owned by the fattest pig they have on the farm.

Wade ordered him around a little more, made him sit on the blanket he promised him then knelt down beside him to dry his hair into a damp puffy mess. “Awww, you're like a fluffy lil’ otter!” Wade coos at him, roughing up his hair even by sticking his hands in it.

“Stop it!” He shucked off his hand and managed to snatch the towel off him. “Why can't I dry you while you dry me? You're still wet.” He points out, still cranky from the teasing. He hates his hair being like that for a reason.

“Don't worry, I'm just gonna go get dinner now.” And little Wade has less impulse control than him.

“Why would you need to be naked to go hunt down a hare?”

“I'm not getting us a hare, it'll make sense afterwards.” He tucks the blanket over Peter so that it curls around his shoulders and encases him like a dumpling before backing up and jumping right back into the lake. 

Peter shoots an arm up to protect his face from the splash that nearly reaches him, face screwing as he watches air bubbles drift off towards the deepest sector of the loch under the waterfall. He scrambled forward, leaning over the bank to get a closer look. What in tarnation is that man thinking?

“Wade?!” He called, as if the man could hear him under the water. He’s been down there for a couple seconds… What's he doing?

A splash startled Peter, causing him to jump back. Something was struggling continuously, just below the surface without making itself known in the dimming violet of the water reflecting the sky.

The surface breaks, Wade rising up with a giant bass in his hands, lifting it in the air. “I got dinner, Petey! I d—“ The thing slips right out of his grasp, smacking him right in the face with its tail as it falls back into the water.

“You little shit-"

Wade dives right back in to recatch it.

“Wade, wait— ugh! Never mind.” Peter groaned out loud. There were way more efficient ways to catch fish, it could’ve been easier! “You stupid man.” And yet, he says it with a smile blooming on his face.

Wade manages to grab onto the slippery fella once again, playing keep hold on the soap bar with all the way to the bank where he deposits it on a nice looking rock. He sits down next to the gaping boy with a sigh and exhausted jazz hands. “Ta da! I used to be better, trust me, you should've seen me in my prime.”

“I’ve never seen someone catch a fish with their bare hands, but if it means anything I think you did a good job.” Peter pat Wade’s back and then leaned his head on his shoulder. 

“It does, sugar-bear, it means alot.” He snakes a hand through brown curls, kissing the boy's crown. “I learned how to do that when I lived by the docks of this fishing village for a couple years, and without fail, every night I'd get drunk, take off all my clothes, and wrestle a fish for the hell of it. At some point I manage to get better at it without getting all that pissed, but I think I could take on fucking cthulu with the right amount of spirit pumped into my veins.” He also always woke up the next morning in an awful smelling barrel with more money than he went out with but that's neither here nor there.

“You are a strange man, Wade Wilson.”

“Yeah, and you just made out with him,  _ naked _ .” He fakes a gasp, as if it was scandalous. “And you’re still naked?! What kind of girl do you take me for, Petey?!”

“Shut up!” Peter laughed, pushing Wade away from him now. “You can't talk, you're  _ also _ naked.”

“Yeah, but how do you  _ know _ .”

“What? Wade, you're sitting right in front of me, and you're  _ naked _ .” Peter knit his eyebrows in confusion.

“I could've put on my underwear in that time, you never know, you  _ could _ check to see if I do, since it is the only true way to know.” He suggests.

“...Are you trying to get me to look at your-?”

“Maybe.” The response cut him off.

“I’m not gonna look.”

“Coward.” Wade whispered under his breath.

“Pervert.” the boy retaliates, louder.

“Prude.” Wade retorted.

“Jerk.”

“Jerk-est.”

“That’s not even a word!” Peter scoffed.

“Did I not tell you? I'm actually a theatrical poet and novelist and I make up words in my free time.” Wade leans further in, a flat palm grounding him in the grass behind Peter's back.

“That's the biggest lie I've ever heard.” The doe crossed his arms and looked at the man with an angry pout, his nose scrunching up.

“Yeah, but you also agree that would be really hot, right? Especially with  _ my _ tongue. You can't imagine this voice whispering sweet poems to you in his luxurious study?”

“No, I can’t.” Peter responded, sounding flat and unamused.

“At Least let an old man try, punkin.”

Peter rolled his head back, groaning. “ _ Fine _ .” 

“Yes!” Wade pumped his fist excitedly and then cleared his throat. “ _ Okay _ . Get ready for the most sexiest poetry you’ll ever hear. Shuffle closer, cmon, don't be shy, we're quite literally sitting here with our dongs out.”

Peter sat closer to Wade, their shoulders pressed together comfortingly. The Warlock's lips brush against the shell of his ear, which still feels submerged from the remains of water in his ear canal, and notices his own lips part to inhale a sharp breath.

“Quartz digits tend to roam over moss grown stone,

Curves draped in satin and silk, 

My own cracked palms seem to wander alone,

Across ancient gods that won't wilt.”

At first, Peter was expecting to hear a grossly bad poem about his ass, but the more Wade said, he was surprised. The rumbling of his voice at such a low vibration was also a factor drawing him in.

“Vines crawl off your shoulders to wind themselves,

Around my knuckles and joints,

Blooms in your curls latch onto me,

My own hair I do appoint.” 

Maybe it was the poetry, or maybe it was the subtle hand traveling up Peter's back and tangling into his hair as if the flowers were really there, but he felt like he was melting. He knows Wade probably never wrote any kind of poetry, and this has to be coming from the top of his head too. It wasn’t even bad! Probably really  _ really _ corny to some people, but he liked it.

“Your sweet cracked smile calls birds from the trees,

Parted lips eternally soft,

Your grey complection still glows in the sun,

And I may never know the cost.” 

“Atop a podium made of ourselves, 

We stand abandoned, sculpt to be seen,

With my hand on your hip, and yours on my shoulder,

We dance for the ants and the bees.”

Peter blinked up at Wade, not really knowing  _ how _ to respond to all that. This man couldn’t say shtick but he could make a whole poem off the top of his head? He’s actually a bit impressed.

The boy opened his mouth to say something, but Wade cut him off before he could get his stilted reaction out his throat, a shocked laugh escaping him instead. Bear hands come at him to roll him through the grass then leave him dizzy and sitting atop a defined abdomen, along with a view of a heaving chest and a dazzling smile resting amongst damp clover. “What’d ya think, Petey-pie?” It's hard to get used to so much intimate touching, of course the large paws kneading his thighs made his insides warm but he's never felt warmth like this, it's jarring in a way that makes him want to never stop. 

“I liked it…you did a really good job.” Peter responded meekly, avoiding any real eye contact with the man he’s sitting on— _ naked _ .

“Oh?” The man asks, curious, teasing.

“Obviously there's some areas that need improvement-" 

“There it is.” Wade can tell Peter plays brat and insults him to deflect his own bashful feelings, it was cute.

“I'm just saying! Art can always receive constructive criticism. Especially an  _ interactive _ poetry recital. How avant garde of you, Wade.”

“Yeah? You think maybe I should’ve tried to capture your essence better? I think so too, but that’d take a little bit of studying.” Wade winked at the boy, making Peter roll his eyes in order to avoid showing how that sentence made chills run up his spine.

“You’re such a dog.” 

“Bark bark, bitch.”

He thought he already captured the best angle of Peter in his head, but here, underneath him, in the dark, as the boy shouts with laughter over Wade's impulsive reaction, he's finally found an image of this angel that's now stuck to the inside of eyelids for as long as he lives. A framed portrait of what's going to be the death of him, hung up on the inner walls of his skull.

He’s gorgeous in more ways than one, but he never uses that to his advantage. It’s like he doesn’t even know he’s beautiful, like no one's ever told him that. He had a face that anyone could spot in a crowd, and the most contagious smile. He looks like he’d be a prince in a fairytale- he's ignorant of so much of the real world, yet doesn't seem real himself. 

-

“It doesn't fit, Wade!”

“We’ll make it fit, hold still!” Wade put one hand on Peter's waist, pulling him back against him.

“That’s not gonna work, it's too big.” 

“Just give me a second!”

“Can't we use something else?”

“This is the only belt I have!” Wade wrapped the belt tight around Peter's waist in order to keep his loose pants up, the thick waist-line bunching in order to get it small enough to not fall down Peter's legs; even then, it feels like a lost cause.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything  _ smaller _ ?” Peter asked, looking down at how the pants scrunched up at his feet.

“I don't exactly buy from weavers looking for wood nymph sizes, do I, sugar bear?” He asks in a condescending tone, earning him a sharp slap to his hand hooking the buckle of the belt. 

“If it’s bothering you  _ that much _ , Petey, just cuff your pants.” Wade gently shooed Peters hand away, smiling to himself.

“If I bend over they'll fall down! Screw this, I'm going pantless.” The boy muttered to himself.

“Don't you want to think that through? There’s a lot of creeps in these woods, baby!”

“Like you?”

“ _ Exactly _ .” Wade hummed, unbothered.

“Well that means I have a creep to save me from the worse ones. You've already proven yourself useful.” He shucked off the belt, pants and unfitting underwear, walking past Wade naked again to find a shirt.

Wade gasps, blatantly staring. “You think I'm useful?”

“Not right now, since you won’t help me find smaller pants.” The boy grumbles, rattling through the bag attached to the resting mare breathing deeply. Her dark features and short hair are picked up by the fire they have set up, the fish Wade caught skewered above the flames.

Some things clink together near the bottom of the endless bag, catching his eye as he pushes tools to the side to see glistening gold and familiar jewels. There were emeralds in here, much like the ones he saw decorated on the armor that some of the knights were wearing. He didn't take any off of the guards from today. He would have seen him put them in the bag.

He'll bring it up later. 

He finds a wrinkled white undershirt of Wade's, lifting it up and then shaking it to clean it off a bit. This shirt should work fine.

“Soooo, if I  _ did _ find a smaller pair of pants you’d think I’m useful again?”

“No, but I'd sure be grateful.” Peter gives Wade a wickedly attractive grin, brushing his fingers over Wade's shoulder as he walks past him and turns his attention back to putting the shirt over his head the right way around.

“You’re lucky you’re hot.” Wade mumbled, faintly frustrated with how complacent a small touch made him, as if he's not known for breaking rules of command. What is he, a pet? His own heart and dick is working against him.

Wade decides for  _ himself _ , that he was going to find smaller pants. Not because  _ Peter _ wants him to, but because he’s so kind and amazing that he would do that for him.

He approached Betty and took his satchel off of her saddle, reaching his whole arm into the thing and digging around at the bottom to find something.

He gets through three different pairs of pants before finally finding a smaller pair, he isn’t sure  _ why _ he had them, but that’s really not his problem anymore. Although he will miss seeing Peter walking around completely naked apart from his shirt draping over him and off one shoulder, all dreams must come to an end.

“Here,  _ your grace _ , the pants you requested.” Wade came towards the boy and held out the pants like he was gifting him with a handcrafted golden sword.

“That will be all, butler.” Peter claps his hands in the man's face as if he was dismissing him, trying to hide a smile while taking the pants from him.

Wade dismissed himself, faking a dramatic bow and heading towards the campfire to check on the fish. Though, he struggled to actually pay attention to it at all. His eyes wandered off to Peter, who was slipping his slender legs into the pant holes and pulling up the piece of clothing past his hips and buttoning it at his waist.

Even the baggiest of pants can’t hide that ass.

“Did you burn the fish?” Peter asked, finally turning to face Wade.

“Oh, yeah, fuck.” He forces himself out of staring, hastily lifting the skewer off the fire and resting it on a plate he set out earlier.

“Don’t ruin our dinner, Wade!” Peter came around to sit down next to the man, snickering a little bit at his own joke. 

“Guess who fucking saved your munchies? That's right, this guy.” He lifts up the ceramic, the fish cut just barely fitting on, no rib bones or scales. “‘ _ Thank you Wade for catching me a huge fish and cooking it for me, you’re so strong and sexy.’ _ ” He mocked Peter's voice, going three octaves higher and putting on that slight country drawl that sometimes shines through his words.

“I do not sound like that.” Peter smacked Wade’s shoulder and then crossed his arms, looking at him with the same annoyed face May gives him when he acts like he can’t hear her.

“Yes you do.” He clears his throat again. “‘ _ I'm so pretty and cute but I act like an old man who only wears sweater vests yeehaw! _ ’”

“When have I ever said ‘yeehaw?’” Peter raised an eyebrow at Wade.

“I know you’ve said it.” Wade claimed, glaring back at Peter as if he were serious. “You say yeehaw.”

“I'm gonna make you live off the pig feed when we get back to the ranch. I swear to the fates. And anyway, I'm not pretty. You don't have to keep saying it to make me feel better.” He's so clearly not in Wade's league, inexperienced and average looking, it's baffling how much Wade tells him he's anything but. He picks at the fish between them, feeling Wade staring at him.

“Wait wait wait, you think, you think you're not pretty?” Deep honey eyes bore up at him through long dark eyelashes.

“I know I'm not- but thanks for making me not feel average for a night. You're pretty good at that.”

“ _ You _ think you’re not pretty?” Wade repeated again, looking baffled by what he was hearing. “Petey, please tell me this is a joke.”

“It’s not.”

“Are you fucking serious?! You look like if the sun fucked an ancient forest and had a baby! I've never met anyone like you!” Of course the prettiest boy in the world doesn’t think he’s pretty—has no one ever told him that he was drop dead sexy? Wade’s probably the first. “Who told you that you weren’t pretty?! Huh?!” He interrogates the boy, fish meat stuffed in his cheek.

Peter groaned, annoyed by Wade’s blabbering. “No one. Why are you making this such a big deal?”

“Because! You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes on! There's no way you don't know that.”

“May called me a ‘dashing young lad’ when I felt down but I don't think compliments from family members count.” He timidly picks at the meat under Wade's astonished gaze. Wade was just saying that. It didn't mean it was true.

Wade sighed, staring at the hopeless doe. He should tell him. He's in too deep to not go through with it- he seems open to occupation diversity, doesn't he? Everyone's done a few blatantly illegal transactions once or twice. Surely the angel will understand.

“You have a dream job, Pete?” Off to a terrible start.

“I've always been the one to inherit the farm, and I already do a lot of the work there since Ben passed and May’s knee went last year. I like the busyness of it all. Seeing the animals grow, the time out in the sun, finding and documenting the new weeds that sprout through the pebble path. I don't want that to change.” The boy lingered on the fire in front of them, the wisps of orange strangely calming to him.

“I hope she’s okay; I bet she’s worried.” Peter sighed, a pit settling uncomfortably in his stomach. 

Wade watched him, head in his hand and face empathetic. “How did your uncle pass?” He asks, a gentle whisper over the crackle of flames.

Peter tensed first a second, the mention of his uncle making him feel worse. It's only Wade, he doesn't mean harm, he never would. “It was a couple years ago, him and I were supposed to go into town to get some stuff for the farm, but in order to get there we had to go through the woods. We both knew how dangerous it was, there were bandits running around at the time but we  _ really _ needed supplies to last through the winter.”

He could see everything playing out in his head with almost every little detail vividly clear.

“We ended up getting attacked, but I got away and he didn’t. I never want to see May’s face crumble like that again. That's why I can't  _ not _ go back to her, she's too used to her loved ones going out the front door and not coming home.”

Wade retracts his previous statement, because holy shit, because Peter would  _ not _ appreciate what he was going to say. He can bare hiding it and keeping it from the lover boy since telling him might be infinitely worse. He's doing him a favour.

A large comforting arm snakes around Peter's shoulders, a kiss gifted atop his head.

“Fates, Wade, you got me emotional and ranting. How dare you.” He tries to slip back into how they normally interact, drying his eye by dragging the joint of his wrist across it. “Why did you ask me that in the first place?” He gifts Wade back a weak smile, tears now clumping his eyelashes together.

“Oh, uh,” Eloquent as always. “You just seem to know a whole bunch, you could be a philosopher yourself without even trying.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.” Peter leaned against Wade, his head laying on his shoulder and his eyes closing.

“You ever had a place you called home, Wade?” The doe whispers to him, like it was a secret.

“Maybe once.”

-

Wade has learned that if Peter sleeps on his front he snores like a whistle. As cute as it is, having it right in his ear doesn't sooth him to sleep himself. He rolls the doe over so that he's big spooning him, the arm wrapped all the way around his middle to prevent him from rolling over in his sleep. It didn't sound pleasant for Peter either, so it's a win win scenario.

He drifts in and out, adjusting countless times against where they cuddled up under their blanket with Betty curled around them like a pillow. Maybe he's restless from having to sleep with another person for the first time in years, making sure they're comfortable and not blocking an airway accidently, that they're not overheating, that they're not having a nightmare. Okay, maybe this was more than just a silly reciprocated crush. But Wade can handle it.

He was so close to getting almost an hour of sleep, but he woke up again, wide awake, from his chest burning. As if his heart was attempting to break his ribs and crawl out of the hole in his flesh the organ just created. It was what he imagined his insides shriveling up would feel like, his chest concaving in on itself, a hole where his soul once was.

His open eyes couldn't focus, the wilderness around them blurry and undefined, the waterfall and lake are licks of blue and white as the moon must be out, reflecting down onto the water. Wade couldn't see it, it felt like he was blacking out with pain, dots painting his vision, as white noise seems to fill his ears, he felt completely submerged. Was this what dying as a mortal felt like? Was he about to pass, right here right now, curled around someone he's learning to love?

He must have imagined the same pain in his feet, that wouldn't make any sense, but alas his soles felt as though he was walking along magma, feet sinking and submerged in the red substance and disfiguring them, tearing away his skin and molting other patches on his heels.

For all the nightmares he so consistently has, this has to be the worst.

Was this his punishment?


	6. The Devil

He couldn't explain it. Waking up at sunrise, his soles malformed with sores and scars, practically numb but red and raw all at once under his shaking hand, it was as if that nightmare from last night came true, and wasn't just something funny he ate.

Peter was still asleep right beside him, peaceful as ever. The sound of the doe’s breathing was the only thing that kept him conscious through his suffering, and it was still the only thing now stopping him from attempting to cut off his feet in hope they come back normal.

He makes a decision and gets up abruptly, finding his gauze and wrapping both his feet tightly. He couldn’t let Peter find out, he didn’t want his doe to see him this way at all, it's not like he could explain what was wrong with him, he could only theorize to himself.

Wade slips on his boots, lacing them tighter than he's ever worn them, and glances down at Peter, watching how the boy stirred and curled up under the blanket without him there to hold him. What was he supposed to do now? He’s found someone who makes him genuinely happy, but now the universe wants to fuck him over like this? Every time he feels like things are starting to get good,  _ something  _ gets in the way of that. The one thing he gets a hold of is ripped away from him.

“Wade?” A voice purred up at him, small and tired.

“It's early, baby, go back to sleep.” Wade came over to crouch down next to Peter and kiss him on the cheek, smiling slightly when Peter turned his face away to press himself further against Betty’s stomach. “I’m gonna go find us something to eat, I’ll wake you up when it’s ready.”

“You better.” The boy with a nest full of unruly curls grumbles, looking as if he passed out again instantly.

It scares him that he doesn't know how far he'd go for that boy.

-

Peter begrudgingly finds himself awake before Wade comes back with their breakfast, crawling out from under his wooly covers to lean over the bank and splash his face with the chilling water that resides there.

The man couldn't have gone far, he was probably gone less than an hour at most.

He's made aware of Wade's arrival by the chanting swears and loud stomping from his heavy shoes. But what he didn’t expect when he turned around was to see the man covered in chicken feathers and looking like he just witnessed a cold blooded murder, scratches still on his face and a cute basket trapped in his vice grip.

“I did this for you, Pete, you better be fucking grateful because I am  _ never _ getting eggs for you again.” Wade says, still clutching onto the chicken eggs as if the monsters were behind him and ready to snatch them away. 

“You stole eggs from  _ wild _ chickens?” He asks as if he's shocked from Wade's behaviour, gentle hands soothing over the scratched up face.

“Be grateful!”

“I  _ am _ grateful! I’m just shocked you did that.” Peter rubs his thumb over the stubbled cheek before cooing at the man. “Oh c’mere you big baby.” He makes Wade put the basket at his feet then wrap his arms around the other, Peter on his tiptoes as Wade bent his knees slightly so he could press his face into Peter's neck.

“It was awful.” Wade may be over playing his soft side but the reward was too promising.

“I know, honey, it's all okay now.” Peter pets through his hair to calm down tense shoulders, picking out a feather here and there.

“I think I’m going to have nightmares from that. They were  _ terrifying, _ Peter.” He fakes a sniff.

“You’re so dramatic.”

“But my trauma is sooo reeaall.” He sneaks a hand further down Peter's back, the boy already pinching him once he grabbed the goods. “Ow!”

“Handsy!” Peter scolds him, forcing him out of hibernating against his neck and to look him in the eye.

“It’s part of my healing process, trust me!”

“Don’t you have some eggs to cook?” Peter raised an eyebrow at him, ignoring how Wade began to pout.

“Don't you have some warlocks to smooch?”

“Okay, just  _ one _ kiss.” Peter brought his hand to the back of Wade’s head, making him crane down so he could kiss him on the lips. He never realized until now there can be different types of kisses, since this felt nothing like the one from last night- it was all encompassing, Wade taking the lead and curling his tongue into his mouth like he belonged there. The only thing he thought was keeping him upright was the grip he had of the shirt on Wade's back and the man's handsy nature pushing them together.

Despite the lightheadedness, Peter didn’t give into Wade so easily. He gently took Wade’s jaw in his hand and moved his head back. “ _ Breakfast. _ ”

“I know, it's right in front of me.” Wade knew Peter didn’t mean that, and he  _ also _ knew that the boy wasn’t trying to be sexy with the way he just grabbed his face but he couldn’t help the groan that rose from deep in his throat.

“Wade I’m being serious.”

“We can multitask! Egg in one hand, a certain behind in the other.” He gets a well earned squeeze in before Peter gets rid of his arm.

“You said you couldn't multitask?”

The man gasps, cuddling him closer. “Babe, you listen!”

“Make me breakfast!” Peter whined loudly, sounding like a kid throwing a tantrum.

Wade laughs over the display. “You’re such a brat, Petey! You're like the brattiest brat that ever bratted!”

“I’m not a brat!”

“I'm sorry to break the news to you but you entirely are.  _ Brat. _ ”

“Stop being so immature!”

“If you're not into immature guys I have some even worse news for you, mr. Bratson.” Wade put a hand on his knee and crouched to Peter's level, then booped his nose with the other hand.

“You’re the worst.”

“And you're a brat.”

“I'm not.”

The silence that followed was Wade's doing, who was looking at him with an unconvinced, stoney complexion, one raised eyebrow and eyes that seemed to personally dig into his own. 

He was met with Peter’s cute little mad face, who seems to suddenly be more fond of fidgeting now under Wade's ruling gaze.

“I'm counting to three, pet.”

“I’m surprised you can count that high.” Peter smirked, despite picking at his cuticle.

Wade doesn't look nearly as amused, Peter knew he was playing, but the lack of a reaction made him want to squirm.

“You're going to admit to being a brat before I get to three.”

“Make sure not to mix up your numbers. 1 comes before 2.”

“That's it. Last chance, Peter.” Wade hadn't decided what would happen if he didn't take that ‘last chance’, but he’s gonna have to now because judging by the doe’s smug face, he wasn’t taking it.

He sighed, as if he were disappointed. “I gave you a chance.” Was the last thing he said before he all but disappeared between Peter's fingers. The boy was now alone, heart racing, stock still and waiting for someone to strike. Was this what it was like to be one of the innocent animals Wade likes to hunt?

Peter backed away, looking around to find any sign of Wade or the smoke he leaves behind when he’s teleporting. There wasn’t any sound or movement to indicate that the man was anywhere near him, which means he can possibly make a run for it.

He gets nearly two meters before his feet leave the ground entirely, strong arms unaffected by his kicking limbs and embarrassing squawks of surprise.

“Did you think you could escape me?!” Wade’s laugh was near maniacal, easily manoeuvring the body so he's gripping his legs, Peter flailing to grab onto Wade and not be dropped on his head as his world is flipped upside down.

“Put me down!”

“I gave you a chance, Petey-pie. Don’t act surprised!” 

Wade started walking with Peter in his hold, the boy still trying to fight and wiggle around, laughing despite his own screaming interrupting himself.

“I’ll put you down if you admit that you’re a brat.”

“No!”

"The lake it is." 

As Peter looks up he sees the grass come and go, his own mortified reflection now staring down at him, his loose ringlets kissing the surface of the water.

“Don’t you dare drop me!”

“Admit it!”

“I’m not a brat!”

“Wrong answer, baby!” Wade lowered Peter down, getting the tip of his curls wet until Peter started yelling at him to stop.

“Ready to admit it now?”

"You wouldn't." Peter tests him, addressing the boots in his line of site, to see if he's actually willing to go through with it. 

"I would." Finally, something he doesn't have to lie about.

To prove his statement, Wade drops Peter in further, getting most of his hair wet and laughing at how he squealed.

“Okay! Okay! I’m a brat!” He finally whimpers, defeated and desperate.

Wade fishes him out and sets him back on shaky legs, firmly in the grass and firmly clamped onto Wade's forearm. “See? It wasn’t that hard.”

“I could kill you.”

“Wait till after breakfast, punkin’!” he messes up the soaking mop of curls on his head even more, ringlets sticking out in every direction and concealing the fierce scowl painting the boy's face.

He could've punched Wade right in his perfect teeth, but doesn't, since he's a good person, unlike some people.

He watches Wade walk away from him, he could only see the back of his head but he knows the man is probably smiling like the jerk that he was. Couldn't he at least apologize for the rough behaviour? No cuddling and sucking up to him? Was he being ignored? Why is he obsessing over this? Wade seems to think it's not a big deal, so it must be bigger in his head than it actually is. He should get over it. It's just being playful is all, they did it all last night.

“Do you like your eggs sunny-side-up or scrambled?” Wade asked, looking back at Peter.

The boy all but attached himself to Wade's back, sitting on his knees to accomodate to Wade crouching by the fire, wordlessly mushing his face into his shoulder blade.

"Woah, what's all this? How'd you get all clingy all of a sudden? Strange boy." 

Peter felt too embarrassed to explain himself, he knows Wade will laugh at him. He squeezed him just a bit tighter, the feeling of holding Wade bringing him some comfort.

"Can you squeeze once for scrambles and twice for sunnys if you're not talking to me?"

“ _ Sorry _ . Sunny side please.”

"That's my doe. Anyone ever told you you got great manners? I never got the hang of them." Wade set up the skillet above the fire, unbothered with Peter still holding onto him. The angel seemed comfy.

He was cute like this in a weird way, all sweet and lovable, if a bit quiet. He loved sassy, quippy Peter, but this one is more like a teddy bear that squeaks if you squeeze hard enough.

Then he has a thought. "I didn't hurt you accidently did I? I'd fucking hate myself if I did."

“No! You didn’t hurt me, I’m okay.” Peter didn’t want Wade to feel bad at all! He wasn’t hurt, just worried. He should’ve thought about this before coming over here acting like a kicked puppy.

"Thank fuck, wouldn't want to break a little thing like you. C'mere, get a better seat." Wade pats his lap, looking over his shoulder at the farmer who seems to have suctioned himself to his back.

Peter shimmied onto Wade’s lap, the man giving him some unneeded help by planting his hands on his hips and sitting him down when he was close enough. 

"You're just shy by nature, aren't you? My shy little doe." He coos, pecking his cheek and jaw while a hand runs through the air drying curls. 

“Stop teasing me.” A muffled whine spoke back to him, as the cute face is now pressed into his shoulder.

“I’m not teasing, baby! It’s okay to be shy. Fuck, even I get shy on occasion." Wade stroked and kneaded Peter's hips, they really were the perfect thing to fidget with. “I think it’s sexy when you’re shy!”

“Wade!” Peter lifted his head with the exclamation, beet red.

"What? It's a fact!”

“That doesn’t mean you should say it out loud.”

"I'm sorry, then. Happy?"

The doe nods his head while avoiding Wade's eye, who seemed adamant on keeping that eye contact, but didn't force Peter to return it.

"Wanna help me make your breakfast?" Wade's voice softened, a thumb rubbing his flushed freckled cheek. 

Wade’s affectionate response made Peter perk, forgetting that there was something he was worried about. There was something about that wiry smile that made the boy melt.

“I can help. What do you need?” He asks, wide eyed with hope and wanting to make Wade happy.

"After you gobble up your serving, how about you go pick out some sweet berries for the both of us? I know you'd be great at that." Wade pat Peters cheek and then ruffled his hair. His excitement was so adorable.

Wade lets the doe get comfy in his lap, working around him to crack two of the eggs into the pan. “You know, I’m actually a great cook.” He fails to mention his stance on baking.

“I’m sure you are.”

"I'll take that as you agreeing with me. Cooking outdoors is so much more fun than cooking indoors- you don't have a shit ton of cupboards to look through just for one bowl, and washing the dishes has never been so scenic! There's a whole ecosystem just for my sink. At times it feels like the forest is just a bungalow I got extensions for.”

“But it can be dangerous.”

“That’s the fun part, baby! I just pop berries in my mouth to see what happens, and if I die, I die. That’s on me.” Wade shrugged casually.

"Is that why I'm getting the berries?"

“Entirely. I guarantee you I would kill us both if I was the one picking them.”

“At least you’re honest.”

He tries to be.

"You're not new to the forest and nature and all that shit, are you pet? How do you see it. C'mon, describe it to me."

“Umm…” Peter really had to think about that. Nature was a beautiful thing and it managed to surprise him every day, someone who likes it can accommodate well with it, but someone who wouldn’t may feel like nature is against them. It’s so amazingly complex.

“Mother Nature works in mysterious ways, you never know what she’s planning and that’s why you always have to work with her instead of against her.” Peter stated, satisfied with his own statement.

"How boringly cliché of you."

Peter felt some sudden insecurity after Wade said that to him, he thought it was a pretty good answer.

"I'm only teasing, doe, I didn't say it was a bad reply." The man kisses his temple after noticing his brow crease. “You can be so sensitive sometimes.”

He was being sensitive, wasn’t he? Of course Wade was just joking! He wouldn’t say anything like that to Peter to hurt his feelings. He’s so used to making lighthearted jokes with May.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to those kinds of jokes.”

"Then you'll learn! How exciting is that?" He doesn't pause for Peter to answer. "I've already learnt a lot myself with you around."

"You have?" He asks, hope filling his chest once again, even more desperate now to cling onto Wade's every word.

"Of course! I know all about you, I know more about myself,  _ and _ I've learnt how we work so well together. It's making me question how sane I actually was before you came along, because I don't know what I'd do with myself without you here.”

Peter looked down at his hands and started fidgeting, trying to stop himself from getting all blushy, but that clearly didn’t work.

Wade really felt that way? About him? It was so sweet and made his stomach turn from all the butterflies inside. He’s sure if he looked at Wade he’d explode on the spot.

"It's also why I think no one else could thrive as well as we do here. It's like our own big playground, we’re the kings of the forest!” Wade changes the topic to his own dizzying speed.

“What?” Peter tries to interject to get an explanation.

“The wilderness is our kingdom! The beavers and the squirrels are our loyal subjects.”

"Would that make the lake the ballroom?" The boy could only suggest meekly, not wanting to sound so stupid again.

"Peter, you're a genius. Are raccoons outlaws?"

The smile the doe produced from the compliment practically blinded him.

"I'd say they're welcome, but they're on thin ice."

"You're right, chickens are the real outlaws here." Wade scowls at the thought, plating the eggs and putting it in Peter's unready hands. "Betty is the pretty princess."

"Why thank you, your majesty." The boy puts on a classical rich person accent, bowing his head to Wade before blowing on his steaming eggs.

Peter practically inhales them, a sense of nostalgia for his younger years on the farm as he remembers eating eggs like these everyday for breakfast; and yet, no homesickness follows.

"Woah woah, slow down doe, you're gonna choke on the wrong thing." Wade cups Peter's hand that's holding onto the egg white, stopping him from funneling it in his already full mouth.

The puzzled face was even cuter with the stuffed chipmunk cheeks."Is there a right thing to choke on?" The doe asks with a slight head tilt after a hefty swallow, curious eyes peering up at the hunter.

“You know what? Don’t worry about it.” Wade really couldn’t bring himself to carry on  _ that _ conversation, especially with such a sweet face looking at him like that.

The little forest king goes back to his happy egg eating in Wade's lap, and the man couldn't think of anything he'd rather be doing than this.

Three days ago he wouldn’t have imagined this happening, but now he can’t imagine it  _ not _ happening. If Peter didn’t run into him he would’ve been alone again, wandering aimlessly, looking for the next best thing.

Both of them would have been lost.

"You want me to get those berries now?"

“You’re already done?”

“I was really hungry. I told you I wanted breakfast.”

"I'm sorry for dipping you in a lake instead of making them right away." Wade apologised through a laugh, having no intentions of regretting it.

Peter crossed his arms and turned his nose up as if he didn’t forgive Wade. “I’ll forgive you only if you let me push you in the lake later.”

"Done." He plans on taking him down with him.

-

Wade had sent Peter off into the woods with a basket, the man’s cloak wrapped tightly around him with the hood over his head, and a reminder: 'Don't fall for any wolves, little red.'

It was a little annoying to Peter, having Wade treat him like he was a kid or something. He knows strangers are dangerous. Most strangers, anyway.

He walks along a narrow path with a skip in his step and a soft hum on his lips, looking out for certain leaf shapes among the bushes, unbothered by the subtle sounds around him. 

Peter wished he had one of his books with him right now. It’s not like he doesn’t know the difference between the plants, but his worrisome personality made him wonder if he actually knew what he was doing, if his accountability was truly justified.

He ambled further down the uneven path, his owlish eyes constantly looking around him for any type of bright colors, until something between the trees and away from the path catches his attention.

He stopped as soon as he saw it, tugging the hood away from his face and squinting his eyes to see the red spots better. They were low on the ground with spiky leaves and green stems sticking everywhere, and that already gave him a good idea of what they could possibly be.

He was so lucky to have found strawberries, and such an abundance of them as well! They normally are still in flower at this time of year, so having sprouting fruit so early is almost gold dust to him!

He excitedly crouched onto the floor and set the basket to his side, picking the ripe ones and occasionally eyeing the little green ones that were still growing, as if he was happily waiting for them to age to their full potential.

He can’t wait to tell Wade all about how he found strawberries! They could make some jam with this, or pie if they had an oven and ingredients. Back on the farm May would press the fresh ones into a pale of milk just for Peter. He sits more comfortably on his knees to get his hand through the plant to the tricky ones that like to hide.

Peter was crawling further into the patch, the shaking of the plants and the grass beneath him deafening him to the footsteps slowly approaching behind him.

The boy tried squinting more, as leaning over the plant blocked the sunlight from behind him. He leans back to see he wasn't the one blocking the sun. A large silhouette draped over the patch, engulfing his own smaller outline.

He turned around, expecting to see Wade there, but it wasn’t. This man was thinner than him, and a bit shorter, but still so imposing compared to Peter. He felt nervous, having someone he didn’t know looming over him like this.

“Hello?” He spoke up, glancing at his basket and then collecting it in his hand with a tight grip. He doesn't seem like one of those guards, or even a guard at all, he dressed similar to Wade, scuffed clothes and subtle armour, except this one had his cloak mostly over his right shoulder, his left completely free of the heavy looking fabric.

"Oh, thank the fates, from a distance it looked like you were hurt down there." He sounded very polite, but Wade’s warning from earlier made Peter wary. The man raked a gloved hand through his shoulder length back hair, his stubble dark to match.

“I’m okay, I don’t need any help.” He reassures timidly, though not from his bashfulness.

"What are you up to, anyway? If you don't mind me asking. I'm Jack, by the way, gosh, I always forget to introduce myself. " He spoke in a charming manner, but had certain inflictions that made the doe think of how he repeated a sentence over and over in his head to see what sounds the best.

“I’m…picking berries.”

“By yourself?” He asked in a tone that was probably meant to sound concerned, but it felt weird and predatory.

“I’m actually with someone, he’s around here somewhere.” Peter figured clarifying he wasn’t alone would make the guy back off, but nothing seemed to falter.

“That’s good. But you should be careful, there’s a dangerous man out here, a criminal.”

“There is?” 

"Yes, a bandit that's wanted in 12 kingdoms and counting, he uses these woods to steal from the wealthy and common folk alike.” The man was now reaching into his pocket, pulling out a rolled up piece of paper and handing it to him. “He even misguides the pretty ones right into the wrong kind of traders, or even holds them hostage.”

Peter listened to him talk and stared down at the unopened paper, thinking about how awful that bandit must be. What kind of monster would do those things?

“If you see him you should run right away.”

He glanced up at the man while unrolling the paper, not looking down at it until it was all the way open—and when he did, he regretted it immediately. In his hands, was a smug sketch of the man he’d grown to trust over the past three days, the man who made him eggs that morning, the one who kissed him last night.

Wade Wilson.

_ Deadpool _ .

Wanted for 500,000 crowns.

Dead or alive. The 'dead' was crossed out by normal writing ink.

He felt all the air leave his lungs, making him subtly hyperventilate. The man was asking him if he was okay, helping him up and rubbing his arms like the cold was causing him to shake.

“I have to go. Thank you for your help.” He dropped the poster into the basket.

He stepped back from the man and turned to walk in another direction, staring blankly at the floor in front of him until something was blocking his path, causing him to look up.

It was another man, he was taller, wider, and scarier than Wade and Jack combined. He had muscles the size of Peter's skull but still had some pudge around his middle, making him all the more imposing. He could see some of the bald man's crooked teeth, a chunk of his top lip missing accompanying a nasty scar that stemmed from there up his face, creating a permanent snarl on his expression.

When Peter backed up, a big hand grabbed him by his wrist tight enough to make him sore.

“Let go of me!”

"-We were thinking," Jack jutted in, his charming voice fading, ignoring Peter's cry. "That you could take a moment to relax at our wagon, it's just round the corner, and you seem so stressed.”

“No, I—I have to go, really. I appreciate you looking out for me but I  _ really _ have to go.” Peter tugged on his wrist, trying to escape the big man’s hold.

“I wasn’t asking if you wanted to.”

He couldn't escape if he tried.

“Snarl, hold him still.”

Peter was thrashing by now, screaming and yelling at them to let him go. He was disturbingly familiar with this situation, it’s like he was reliving it over and over.

Snarl held Peter in place with one arm, and used the other to shut him up, effectively covering half his face in the process- the giant unintentionally blocking his airways. Peter even tried lifting his legs so that Snarl would hold all his weight then drop him, but he barely seemed phased, not a word coming out his mouth the entire time, only rough grunts.

Jack approached them, his friendly facade dropping and being replaced with a scary, evil gaze. “Looks like Deadpool didn’t rough him up too bad. He's even prettier up close.” He grabbed Peters wrist and lifted up his sleeve, seeing a few bruises left from when Peter was grabbed by the knights. “That might reduce the price though.”

Jack shoo’s off the sausage fingers from Peter's face, the sudden ability to breath again making him dizzy, while grabbing his jaw to turn and inspect his face like an antique. "We got ourselves a beauty. He’ll sell fast.”

Peter shook Jack's hand off his face and tried to lunge forward and bite him, but the hand got away too quickly. “Isn’t he feisty?”

Snarl responds with yet another grunt, and then covers Peter's mouth and nose again again. The lack of oxygen plus the panic was making him delirious and disoriented, the forest was practically spinning around him. 

“Let’s get him to the wagon, and don’t let him run o—“ Jack doesn’t finish his sentence, instead, he turns around with narrowed eyes as if he heard something that no one else could.

It was silent, outside of the very quiet rustling in the bushes. But that wasn’t enough to make Jack let it go.

“Take him and get out of here.”

Peter manages a few more jerks before a rag is shoved in his jaw in place of the hand, his wrists bound behind him and thrown over the shoulder of the giant like a doll. 

When Snarl turned away and walked off with Peter, he got a small glance of Jack stalking towards a few trees. As angry and betrayed Peter felt, he hoped Wade was coming to save him. He needed Wade to keep him safe, every time he's away from the bandit his life ends up in danger, and even if he's somewhat scared of Wade now too, it doesn't mean these feelings of his disappear with a click of his fingers. 

-

“Your sneak attacks are always sloppy, Deadpool.” Jack pushed through the brush, looking around with an amused smile. “You would think you'd learn by now, but you never do.”

There was still silence, making Jack raise an eyebrow. “Ohh you’re mad, aren’t you?” 

"Not as mad as I'm about to be, bloodhound." A sharp voice rings from behind him.

They instantly space out among the trees, blades drawn and circling each other.

“Business is business, Wade! Unless… that’s not what you’re  _ really _ mad about.”

"It's always been business. Where's what's mine."

Bloodhound laughed out loud, his hand on his chest and his head falling back. 

“You won’t be laughing when I carved out your gut like a fucking fish.”

"Oh? Like the bass you had last night?"

Wade tried not to show it, but he was startled. The only way Jack would have known about that is if he had been watching them. He was  _ targeting  _ Peter.

“Not expecting that, Wilson?"

Wade was already charging at him, just as Rodriguez predicted. The smaller man had managed to side step Wade's lunge, banking on Wade's over excited advancement to get behind him easily and strike for his uncloaked back.

“You’ve gone soft.”

The strike was blocked, Wade managed to turn around in time and round off the conflict with a jagged motion of his wrist.

Bloodhound walks backwards as Wade stalks after him, murder clear as day in his eyes. "I'll fucking show you soft."

For the first time in years he isn't smiling as he attempts to decapitate another person, putting all his power into one sword as Arthur was sacrificed to save Peter. He's had those two for over a decade. He doesn't regret it one bit.

Bloodhound uses Wade's force against him, letting him win the struggle between blades near Jack's throat he somehow wiggled out of, letting Wade stumble then slicing at his side successfully. He laughs freely, twirling his curved blade between his fingertips as he stands and watches Wade get ready to attack him again. A bull to a red cape.

“You should have seen his face when I told him about you.”

He knows he's being baited, but it doesn't mean he won't fall for it. He should’ve told Peter last night, or even before that, before they even had a chance to fall for one another.

“Did you think he wouldn’t find out? Were you going to keep lying to him, again and again? At this point  _ I'd  _ treat him better than you.”

"-And don't you worry. I will."

Wade’s blood bubbled like lava under his skin, his anger growing more and more by the second. “You fucking wish, creep.”

Jack's sword was down for a second, both hands on the handle and letting the weight pull it down as he thought about Wade's words for a second too long. 

Wade breaks out his hunting knife, hurling it nowhere in particular as he knew he wouldn't hit Jack, but he did aim high enough that when Jack raised his hand to catch it by the handle his guard was left completely open, his blade ready for a sneak attack strike but not at all prepared for Wade's steel toed boot to blast through those awfully sensitive crown jewels of his, sending him backwards onto the floor, grunting on the way down.

“Fuck!”

“You know I play dirty, Jack.” Wade came to stand over him, pressing one boot against Bloodhound's chest. “You gotta stop picking fights with me.”

He took Jack's sword and played with it like a fidget toy for a couple seconds, right before lifting it up in the air and plunging it down right through the man’s shoulder and into the ground, pinning him there. “C-list wannabe supervillain."

-

The problem Snarl didn't realize he had was that the binds were actually not tight enough for Peter's wrists, so upside down, over the giants shoulder, he started bruising the curve of his wrist as his hand managed to squeeze out.

He dug the rag out of his mouth and was able to keep himself from gasping too loud. He didn’t want Snarl to notice that he was free, it’d lower his chances of escaping even more.

Snarl was physically stronger than Peter, but if he could wiggle out of his grasp he could use his smallness to his advantage. There were a lot of tight spaces around, and he doubted that the man could fit through any of them—now he just needed to get away.

The arm around him was far from gentle, it squeezed him so firm that he felt like his insides were coming together to accommodate, along with the hand uselessly holding his thighs down as well.

Just as he was getting ready to move, Snarl stopped, looking around like a confused dog. Something must have been up, because he took a sharp turn between the trees and was trying to look for something.

Peter wasn’t sure what it is, but he’s soon being put down and shoved against a tree, his face scuffing the bark of the trunk. His cloak is pushed to the side as the man tries to grab onto his free arms.

"Stop-"

His arm is pulled back then manhandled upwards above his head, the other having the same fate, but the pain wasn't what made him shut up so prematurely. It was what echoed through the forest from the rustling clearing.

“ _ Where’s what’s mine.” _

That was Wade, clear as day, asking for him like Peter was the end result of a well earned hunt. It was painful. Just last night Wade was saying such sweet things to him, but now he felt like he was narrowed down to an object. Did Wade even mean all those things he said to him? Did he only kiss him and touch him because he wanted to? He needed to pass the time and there was a piece of meat right in front of him that he could play with? A little toy to be dragged around?

A knot tied in his throat and his stomach, tears welling up as another knot is tied at his wrists, rope this time, and what appears to be a handkerchief is pulled back between his teeth and knotted at his neck. He stops fighting the man off. What was the point? If he got away from this guy, he’d just be stuck with another. This was a lose lose situation for him.

He was doomed to be sold off to strange men or kept in a cell in a city miles away from home, being poked at and roughed up with no way to fight anyone off. Wade promised him he would teach him how to defend himself. That was a lie too. That sick freak.

All along he was planning to sell him off like this. He charmed him, made Peter have  _ feelings  _ for him—

He should’ve never trusted him.

-

Wade didn't off Rodriguez. He realized the fate of being left to die in the woods is much, much worse.

He had broken his hands with a beautiful crunch as he put all his weight onto one boot and slowly rested his entire sole onto the fragile bones, then twisted his ankle to grind it even further into the ground.

"I want my merchandise.”

A broken wet laugh escapes the bleeding man, his free hand resting uselessly on the handle of his own sword sheathed into his shoulder.

"You don't have to keep playing that game with me, Wade. I know you love him. And I also know," He grunts, trying not to let the pain catch up to him. "That I've finally found your weak spot. After all these years. I have fucking  _ leverage _ over Deadpool.”

“Get a hobby.”

"What'll you do for him? How far will you go for just a pretty face?"

Wade doesn't respond verbally. He scoops up huntress that was left abandoned in the grass, and slits her into Bloodhound's palm then into the stiff earth beneath them.

“You’re lucky I’m not here for you.”

Jack leans his head back into the grass, accepting the pain gracefully.

" _ Where is he _ .” Fates. He’s even a prick in death.

"With Snarl."

Wade pauses, looking at the blades that litter the man's broken body. "Of fucking course you got a snarl brother with you. I knew you weren't  _ that _ dumb."

"Thank you, my friend. I wish you luck in killing the giant."

"And I wish you luck in not being eaten alive by the woodland creatures." Wade stands from his crouch, walking away towards the only place a snarl brother could get through.

"What's the cutie's name? He never told me." The dying man asked behind, like a final request.

Wade pauses, who was he to deny the request of an old friend? "Peter. He's sweet." He responds conversationally, not looking back over his shoulder.

“Hope we meet again.”

"I don't." 

-

Wade didn’t stay long enough to listen to Jack laugh hysterically as if he was a man without a mind, even though that’s not much of a stretch. He followed the very obvious paths that the Snarl brother had made with his body, it stuck out like a sore thumb. Like finding a horse in a haystack.

He couldn’t imagine how afraid his baby must be right now, he couldn’t imagine if he was  _ hurt _ . If he finds even a hair out of place on his pretty head he is going to make sure Snarl dies slower than his friend back there.

“You can come out, fucker! It’s not that hard to find you!” He shouted, trying to draw the ogre-looking bastard to him while chopping through annoying foliage.

“ _ Where’s my catch?! _ ”

Just as Wade was getting ready to yell some other insult, the giant man came out of the trees and stood right in front of him.

“Holy shit you grew.” Wade stepped back, putting at least some distance between them, he remembers seeing this bastard and his siblings in the city once, they're much smaller far away.

Snarl glared down at Wade, as silent as always, yet even more terrifying.

"Okay, okay." He starts bouncing on his heels hyping himself up for the fight, slapping his cheek a few times. “Let’s go big guy, show me what you got.”

A grunt rumbles out of Snarl, a meaty fist coming at him to try and strike him with a blow that could knock his head clean off, but Wade ducks down just in time with his hands covering his face. “Stop! It’s my best quality!”

Snarl wasn’t a fun audience, his only reaction being to reel back his other fist slow enough that Wade could tell where it would end up before he let his arm power through his ribcage. He rolls on the ground past the giants feet, flicking out a smaller blade to stab into the meat of Snarls leg, even if it only earned an attempted kick at his own propped legs. 

He needs to be fast and find a weak point, one wrong move and he's lost a leg while the orc is on his merry way with his doe in toe.

He vanishes, confusing Snarl into turning around himself too fast and trying to swipe the air around him like Wade turned invisible. Instead, Wade uses the momentum to reappear and clutch onto the giants swinging arm, using it like a monkey bar to swing his body up and kick poor Snarl in his maker, knocking out a crooked tooth or two.

The ogre grabs him this time, he manages to pick out his leg then dangle Wade upside down similar to how he treated Peter that morning, with more malicious intent.

Wade puts his bloody blade to use, slashing at the knuckles crushing his calf then protecting his landing as he's dropped back onto the ground. The Snarls were famous for their dismemberment and their ability to not die so easily, (not as famous as Wade however), the four of them had a reputation of being the tank of each continent, obeying the order of anyone who has enough money to pay them off for a few hours. They're a widely accessible service and a guaranteed win in any fight.

Except this one.

Wade grapples onto the injured arm, swinging his legs up then flipping up onto his back to ride his shoulders. With the same knife he used for all his attacks on the beast he manages to stab exactly into his throat as the deathly grip weakens on his free arm.

Going down with Snarl, he vanishes before he's crushed under the falling corpse like a cut down tree, reappearing above it with a panting chest and a glove caked in blood.

He needs to find Peter. The boy had to be around here somewhere.

"Peter! Doe!" He tried calling out, following the path Snarl came from while shoving past bushes in his way, he was getting frantic. What if Snarl did something to him?

“Petey?!” muffled whines follow his call, coming from behind a thick wall of trees with an entrance that has to be drawn back from the bushes.

He didn’t waste any time charging through, even holding his knife as if he were ready for a third party to be in the way of him reuniting with his love.

Instead, he finds his lover alone, wrists trapped in rope above him as the rest is tied to a high branch, obviously too strong for Peter to grip his legs onto the trunk and pull himself down, since the mud prints on the bark tells the story of him struggling.

He seemed on the brink of consciousness, the gag between his teeth was bruising the edges of his mouth as it pulled tight on his skin, his legs looked to have given out from hanging there, if he would have tried to stand up he would only be able to support his weight on his tiptoes, the rest of his feet not reaching the ground.

“I’m so sorry I kept you waiting, Petey.” He rushed up to the boy, untying the ropes around his body and then leaning him against his chest to support him as he undid the gag around his mouth. “It’s okay now.”

“Don’t touch me!”

The words, followed by a rough shove had shocked Wade. Peter managed to get out of his grip but nearly fell over doing so, Wade having to keep him up right again.

"I don't want you anywhere near me, you slimy, double crossing, lying, conniving asshole!” Peter spits, betrayal and regret clear in his broken voice, his attempts to get Wade off him were unsuccessful. He was weak, and hurt, and wanted to be anywhere but here right now.

"Peter I'm sorry-"

“No! I opened up to you, I trusted you, I liked you! And you  _ lied to me _ ! You’re a thief—you’re a monster!”

“Baby—“

“Were you gonna sell me too?!”

"Of course not! I'm nothing like them!" He couldn’t tell Peter that he was going to, but the only thing that was important was that he  _ isn’t _ doing it anymore.

“They said you sell people! They said you hold them hostage! And I saw... I saw what you did! You stole from that carriage, you robbed those knights and lied to me!” Peter finally got away from him, backing up with an angry, terrified expression. “You’re a bad person. I can’t be here, I can’t be with  _ you _ .”

Wade panicked, the thought of Peter leaving him growing too overwhelming to bear. He followed the boys footsteps and reached out to grab his arm, ignoring how he tried jerking away from him. “ _ Pete _ , listen to me!  _ Please _ !”

“No!”

_ "I love you!" _

Peter stopped fighting as soon as Wade said that to him, and terror was replaced with shock. Did he mean that? Did he  _ really  _ love him?

“I want to be better for you, I want to be somebody you deserve, someone worth your time and not the asshole I was before. I want to  _ change, _ Peter."

“You—you do?” Peter liked Wade a lot...and as mad as he was, he didn’t  _ want _ to leave. He just knew the safe option would be to leave. Didn't he want a little danger in his life? That's what adventure is, down to its core. Does he want to give up his only chance of adventure, love, to live for once? How much is he willing to risk for Wade? Is he willing to give up something he doesn't have if he chooses to leave?

Does he love him back?

“I love you too.”

“Then  _ stay _ .”

Wade spots Peter's hesitation, interrupting before he can even start to doubt himself.

"Think about it, doe!" He was practically holding up Peter's weight from where he was gripping his arms. "When have you ever found chemistry like ours? No one will ever have what  _ we _ have! This is  _ destiny _ , Peter. We're meant for eachother! We're meant to explore the world together, I promised you that and I don't want to break it." 

Peter stared at Wade’s hand, how it held him so tight that he was sure the man wouldn’t consider letting go. Wade never did hurt him, and he said he’d change. May always taught him to give people a chance, so that applies to Wade too.

“I’ll stay.”

Wade practically deflates with relief. “I’m so happy baby—“

" _ If. _ You leave this behind. All of it. I don't want to be in the crossfire of  _ your _ mistake, and I don't want the guilt and grief  _ you  _ caused hanging over my head for the rest of my life. I can't shoulder that burden.”

“I’m gonna change. I promise. You’re the only thing that matters to me.”

Wade brought Peter in for a tight hug, followed by a very apologetic make-up kiss. The boy was too tired to fully return the gesture. All this screaming after being kidnapped for the third time was making him lightheaded. 

He lay mostly limp in Wade's arms, his own arms draped over the large expanse of his back. “I’m sorry for the things I said. I don’t think you’re a monster, or a liar, or a conniving asshole.”

"I did have it coming, though."

“Yeah, you kinda did.” Peter smiled softly, caressing Wade’s cheek. Is it too much to make him promise never to lie? Would Wade even be able to keep it? He doesn't want to control Wade like an authoritarian parent, the man has the right to his own secrets, but lying is a different story.

“I won’t let anyone take you from me again. I’ll protect you with my life, Petey.”

"Will you keep me safe?"

"Every hour of the day."

Peter sighs, leaning his temple onto Wade's shoulder. "Take me home, Wade."


	7. Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the chapter delay theres just been a lot going on! We actually finished this one awhile ago, we just never got around to the upload.  
> This is a smut chapter lmfao

Peter expected to wake up in the arms he fell asleep in, to be held tightly and oh so sweetly, but when he did, he was alone, without the comfort of the safety he was promised over and over the night before. He felt around under the blanket with eyes glued shut with sleep, trying to find Wade’s body but he wasn’t anywhere within his reach.

He forced his eyes open and sat up, squinting at his surroundings in confusion. “Wade?” A weak fist forms around the blanket in his lap, gripping it closer.

“Right here, Petey.”

Peter followed Wade’s voice with his gaze, finding him trying to get the fire started.

“How long have you been awake?” The doe asked after a jaw cracking yawn.

“Not that long.”

That was a lie.

He hadn’t slept at all last night. Just as he’d gotten comfortable cuddling with the boy last night, that ripping, boiling pain had returned to him again. He had started kicking, his muscles retracting just from the pure shock of it up his legs. When it was over, he had looked down to see more scars and sores, this time up to his shins, all the way past his ankles.

He still didn’t know what was happening, and he  _ still _ didn’t plan on telling Peter. Hasn’t he already put the poor doe through enough? He promised to keep him safe, and that meant not traumatizing him with whatever the fuck was decaying his body.

“You hungry? We still have some extra eggs.”

“Mhm.” The boy nodded, still sounding as if he wasn’t fully awake. “Sorry I didn’t get those berries yesterday.” He mumbles, shoving his face into his big sleeves to fight off any sleep trying to creep back.

“That’s okay. We won’t have to scavenge anymore anyway.”

“Why not?”

“There’s a small city near here, it’s a couple days on horseback.” Wade got up from the campfire once it was lit, and then walked across to Betty where he had put his satchel. They had moved away from the lake, having travelled a direction that was anywhere away from where Bloodhound had stalked them. Wade failed to mention that to the recovering doe. “Ever been to a dazzling city, Petey?”

“Nope.” He pops his 'p'. Peter's life was limited to the very small village he lived near, and there wasn’t too much of a population there. Everyone knew each other, at least.

“I think you’ll like it. I’ll make sure you have plenty of fun.”

They have a silent agreement, to not bring up the topic of bloodhound, or snarl, or Wade's past occupation. They had inadvertently broken the rule twice already, Wade having rolled up Peter's sleeve after taking his arm from him, ignoring the boys squirming as he glared upon the abundance of marks and bruises littering his forearm. He’d kill those bastards again if he could.

The second time, Peter broke the rule, after a full day on Bettys back and finally settling together in a private clearing, he had spoken up in the dead of night.

"Were you ever going to tell me."

The gentle whisper was like a dart to the ear canal.

"I planned too."

That was a half-truth. He wanted to tell Peter about who he really was, but he wasn’t going to tell him all of the  _ really _ fucked up stuff he’s done. He certainly did  _ try _ to tell him the night before.

But since then, neither of them talked about it. They wanted to move on, and be better. Well  _ Wade _ was the one who wanted to be better, anyway.

“I was thinking, before we leave, you and I can start training again.” Wade suggests, cracking eggs over the pan without asking how Peter wanted them done.

“That would be fun.”

"Fuck, look at you. You're such a snuggle bunny right now. Get that cutie patootie over here this instance." Wade called to the boy, who was wearing the blanket like a hood.

"Why though?" The boy draws in a whine, slinking over to the man despite his clear reluctance to get up out of his comfy spot with a curled up Betty.

"To snuggle the fuck outta your bunny."

"My bunny? What's my bunny, Wade?"

"Your bunny is the part of your soul that yearns for human contact and the warmth of another person." He explained, as if he really knew what he was talking about.

"You made that up on the spot because you misspoke, didn't you?” Peter sat down next to Wade, looking at him with an unamused expression.

"You should start a mind reading business." Wade whispers between them, amazed.

-

"You get real bossy sometimes, yaknow." The doe mutters, tightening his grip on the stick in his hand while looking down upon his side stepping feet, crossing over one another.

“Says you, Mr. ‘Feed me now! I’m sooo hungry! I won’t let you kiss me till you give me food!’” Wade complains back, poking Peter's torso to prove his point, he needs to work on concentration. Wade could've stabbed him if this was a real fight, he'd be dead.

Plus, what better way to learn concentration than having a chatty ex-merc for a teacher?

“I  _ did  _ let you kiss me after, didn’t I?”

“But at what cost? My hard labor? My dignity?” Wade wiped a fake tear with one hand, and blocked Peter's attack casually with the other.

“You’re so dramatic.”

"'S'why you love me."

Peter managed to crack his blade over Wade's knuckles where they grip his own weapon, causing Wade to switch hands and shake out the pain by his wrist. "Oh it is fucking on, pouty lips."

“How  _ dare  _ you say I have pouty lips!”

"Oh, so suddenly I can't say the truth?"

Peter tries to lunge, Wade leaning to his side to dodge the attack for his middle and instead bats at Peter's arm, causing him to fall back and switch hands just like Wade. They had a rule: if you get hit, you have to carry on without using that body part, exactly like real dueling. If your arm gets chopped off you're now left handed, if your leg is sliced up, good luck hopping. The round restarts when you hit the key areas, the head, neck and chest.

Peter groaned in frustration while stepping back from Wade, repositioning himself and now wielding his stick with his left hand, his right now behind his back.

“Don’t be a sore loser, pouty lips.” 

“Shut your trap.”

“Make me.”

The stupid smirk on Wade’s face was just enough to drive Peter. He was gonna make him eat his words. 

Wade will have a fun time fighting him on his knees.

They parry with their non-dominant hand, Peter pushing Wade back until the merc manages to circle around him and try to swipe at his thigh. The doe falls to his side in the grass to successfully avoid the slash, having to roll on his back and prop himself up on his fake stub arm to block the advance Wade tried on his neck from above.

Peter glanced down to Wade's legs, realizing he can hook his splayed foot around Wade's ankle and trip him as he tries to step back from Peter's floor attack. It works, Wade stumbles enough that the boy had enough time to push back up on his feet.

"I'm going easy on you, doe, don't look so proud of yourself." Wade tries to set a bait, advancing for Peter's shoulder.

“You’re just mad.” The boy falls for it, nearly missing Wade's redirection for his heart.

"I'm too hot to feel anger."

“I thought you agreed to start telling me the truth.”

"Okay, now I'm  _ actually _ mad."

Wade sets up three parrys, advancing twice then letting Peter try out his own advance, blocking them from muscle memory. He rounds off the last attack, the boy surprising him by advancing once more and challenging him with a test of strength, their swash buckles crossed as their faces mirror close between the V shape, they both had to lean into each other.

“You’re getting better at this.” The wolf whispers, excited.

“Don’t try to butter me up.”

“I’m serious!”

"...Really?"

Wade wasn't prepared for the doe to look up at him with those golden honeypots that melt his insides. Fates, he was gorgeous. 

Peter leant up to brush his lips to Wade's, the opposing swords slowly falling to their sides as gentle hands replaced them, combing through hair and running over stubble.

Wade thought he knew what would come next, he thought more along the lines of 'makeout and groping session while rolling in the daisies' and less 'Peter successfully tripping him then straddling his chest, a fake blade to his throat'. He got horny baited by his own doe.

“I win.” Peter smiled down at Wade, prideful.

"No way that counts."

“You said to use my resources to my advantage.”

"Yes,  _ except  _ that one.”

“You’re mad.”

"I’m not mad!”

“Yes you are, I can tell.”

"Because you're only allowed to use that move on me! Don't want you eating strange mens faces every time you get in a fight!” Wade was not ready to admit defeat, even though he knows he lost. He did  _ not  _ expect Peter to use seduction as a distraction, he didn’t even seem like that kind of guy. But he isn’t complaining, it was kind of hot.

But he’s not admitting that either.

“Why? Would you get  _ jealous _ ?” Peter got down in Wade’s face and gently flicked his nose.

“Brat.”

“Loser.”

Wade flipped them, easily pushing Peter's torso into the grass and clover beneath.

"I've already won, Wade!"

"I know."

Wade caught Peters lips before the doe said anything else, licking into his mouth while a hand crawled up the does loose shirt and felt the ridiculously smooth skin. The legs that were straddling him now lock snuggly around his waist, pulling him closer to Peter and further into the ground, engulfed by the weeds and bluebells growing over them.

Kissing Wade always felt good, he had so much control compared to Peter—so much more experience. He always knew where to touch him, and how to get him dizzy, it was as if the warlock casted a spell over him, making him lose every coherent thought he had just a moment prior.

Wade’s lips travel away from Peter's mouth, causing him to whine against his will. He’s had a few pecks on the lips before, mostly from MJ the few times that they were alone, but he’s never  _ whined _ after they stopped. He must be embarrassing Wade, who would want someone who makes so much noise? He must sound so needy.

He frowned to himself and turned his head away from Wade, now unable to look at him and probably see annoyance on his face.

"Baby? You alright? We don't have to do anything if you aren't up to it."

Wade had to lean in to hear Peter faintly whisper an apology like he did something wrong and was being scolded. “What are you sorry for?”

“For being annoying.”

“What?! I'm concerned about your definition of 'annoying', doe.”

“I was making too much noise.” He admits like a crime, mumbling less.

"Fates, Petey, you're killing me here." He closes his eyes, mostly to stop himself from eating up the sweet treat in front of him. “You sounded beautiful, punkin’. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t making  _ any _ noise.” It meant he wasn't giving Peter the luxury he deserves.

“But—“

“You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Peter looked ashamed, as if it was wrong for him to lack the same experiences as Wade. That was enough of an answer.

“We don’t have to keep going.”

“But I  _ want  _ to.”

“Then we’ll take it slow. There's more than one way to do this." Wade kisses Peter's cheek, humming in satisfaction when he felt the skin shift from the boy's subtle smile.

“You’re not embarrassed of me?”

“Never.”

This time, Peter was the one to initiate another kiss. And as promised, Wade did take it slow.

-

So slow, infact, that at one point in their journey, after setting up at their fourth or fifth camp, Peter was begging for Wade to pick up the pace.

"Why not? I’ve been waiting!”

“Petey I  _ promise _ I’m not making you wait longer to be an asshole. I'm purposely an asshole for plenty of other reasons, but that isn't one of them." Wade ran a hand up and down Peter's back as they lay against the crooked trunk of a blanketing tree.

“Then tell me why.”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Just tell me!”

Wade sighed, his head falling back against the bark in defeat. He can't say no to those angry angel eyes.

“I am  _ not  _ beginner material.”

“What do you mean by that?”

"If you were to, say, work up to a certain point, I'm where most peoples limits are.” Wade tried explaining without outright  _ saying _ what he meant.

"What?”

“My dick is huge!” He ends up saying it anyway.

“I saw it. At the lake.”

“So you’re telling me you can manage  _ all _ of that, first try?"

“How hard can it be?” Peter shrugged, not realizing what he’s getting himself into.

“Low hanging fruit.”

"What do people normally… go for." He didn't know the terminology but he sure was going to try.

"Average? 6 inches."

“Oh… Well, what are you?"

"Count your fingers, Pet."

“10?!” Peter couldn’t believe it. “It didn’t look that big!"

“It was cold!” Wade defends himself, growing red just as fast as Peter.

“I swear you’re lying.”

"Why were you even looking down there anyway? You little perv.”

“Don’t change the subject!”

"I can  _ promise you _ I'm not lying. I’m swearing an oath to tell the truth. And what do I get out of lying to you? If you see it and it's not 10 then that means you'll be mildly disappointed every time you see my cock. I don't want that! I  _ also _ don't want to hurt you."

“But you said if we prepare then it won’t hurt.”

“ _ Yeah _ , if you don’t rush it!” He loves Peter with all of his heart, but  _ Fates _ he’s impatient sometimes.

“So if not now, then  _ when _ .”

" _ When _ you're comfortable at a certain point. If you want to do this then you need to have some faith in me.”

“I do!”

“Show it with your  _ actions _ .”

The boy pouted at him, but finally gave up on trying to convince Wade and just cuddled up to him instead.

“'Still don't believe you." He mumbles.

“I can live with that.”

-

It keeps on getting worse. Every night, those horrid scars crawled up Wade’s body like creepy little bugs. Creepy  _ poisonous  _ little bugs. Some nights even got so bad that he had to leave a sleeping Peter all by himself so he could yell out the pain in a forest that eats his screams. 

Pockets of skin were burning over, exposing muscle or damaging scorched tissue even further.

Wade can only think of one thing that could have caused this, and it's the one option he never wanted to consider. He didn’t think it would come back and bite him in the ass like this.

It doesn’t matter though. He always finds his way around these carefully worded curses, there's always a loophole to exploit.

He just never thought true love's kiss would come so soon. 

-

"How about.. a cabin? Donkey fighting a large seahorse.”

“Eww, no! Cottages are cuter.”

"There aren't any cottages in Grimewallow, Pete.”

“Then we’ll build one. Bird pecking at the moon.”

The couple lay in a secluded meadow, watching clouds pass by and picking at the petals of wild flowers. They were holding hands, occasionally pointing at the clouds that they thought looked funny.

Wade never took himself for someone who liked this kind of shit, but with Peter, he  _ loved  _ it. The boy laughed at every joke he made, smiled at him in a way that had him entranced, and indulged in every little thing he’d say.

"And who'll be the one to do the manual labour of setting each and every stone in the fucking house? Fish."

"I’ll build the chicken coop.” Peter dodged the question, giggling when Wade caught it and glared at him.

“I’m just kidding! We’ll build it together.”

"What if we find a super old house then do a fixer upper? Squashed bug.”

“Would that cost money?” Peter stopped looking at the clouds to glance at Wade. The man was smiling, just as much as he was.

“Less money than building an entire fucking house by scratch, but I'd do either if you wanted.”

"I thought you didn't want that cottage idea?"

"Nah. But I'd still do it."

"Why?"

"Because I love you, and I don’t care what kind of life we live as long as we’re together, and we’re happy. Fish 2." Those didn’t even feel like his own words, it’s like some mushy boot-kissing-sap spirit took over his body. He hasn’t felt that way since…

“Cat turtle!”

“Huh?”

Peter pointed at a particular cloud in the sky. “That one! It looks like a cat with the body of a turtle. And I love you too.”

“C’mere, you dork.” Wade reached over to pull Peter on top of him, and attacked the boys face with unforgiving kisses. He pulls back laughing with the doe, once again captivated by his beauty.

"What is it?"

"You're beautiful. Also you just missed a dolphin playing the bongos.”

For some unknown reason, Peter didn't care about a dolphin playing the bongos behind him, in this moment he could only look back at Wade in awe. The man truly does believe that he has beauty, and Peter finally believes him as well.

He never felt special, or different, or even worth a penny until now. He liked being someone’s center now, no matter how selfish that might seem.

He didn't feel like the next best thing, or the only one around, or even temporary. Wade genuinely liked him.

And he knows that for a fact, because Wade chose to look at him instead of a bongo dolphin just like Peter.

Both chose each other.

“I think you’re beautiful too.”

“ _ That’s _ an understatement.” Wade responds, pretending to whip his hair with his hand as if it were long and luscious.

" _ And _ pretentious." 

“You’re lucky I don’t know what that word means.”

Peter tried his best to hold back a laugh, but it all came out in a flood.

He hates how Wade can make him laugh so easily. And he means that in a good way.

He brought out all the parts of Peter that he tried so long to hide. Things that he saw as flaws and insecurities were the things that Wade liked the most about him, and he didn’t get it. He supported all his passions, even though he admitted he struggles to keep up with what Peter says about the topic, and yet, he let him ramble on about his study of plants for nearly an hour, listening intently and always urging him to carry on, like a little kid begging their grandparent to finish a bedtime story by the fire.

By the time he was done laughing, they were both just staring into each other’s eyes, wordless. But they liked it that way. Even with mouths sewn shut they could never truly stop talking to one another.

They close the minimal space between them, silently giggling about nothing until they're too close to keep their hands and mouths to themselves. 

It was the same slow kisses, and the same rough hands running up and down Peters hips and occasionally sliding up his shirt. Every time Wade touched him it felt like the wolf was trying to memorize each individual curve and dent of his body, and give them their own attention whenever he could.

Peter could never get enough of it.

Wade went further, carefully tipping Peter onto his back and into the grass, pinning the doe with his frame.

“Do you want to do this?” 

"You don't have to ask me that-"

" _ Yes _ . Yes, I do. I want you to be comfortable.”

The hand cupping Peters cheek was so gentle and kind, acting as a stone kelm to warm up his face.

“I do want this.”

The sigh pulled out the man came from the compassion for Peter's wellbeing, but also a deeper insecurity he had.

"I just, I was scared you would regret it. If we went so fast. That's the actual reason I made you wait." He admitted, shame written on his face as though that fear had already come true.

“ _ Wade _ . I love you, and I don’t know how many times I’ll have to ask you to fuck me before you get it through your head. I  _ want  _ this. I  _ want _ you.” Wade receives a stone kelm of his own, a palm cupping the back of his neck.

“You said the f word.” Wade pointed out, right before leaning back down to kiss Peter again. Not once in his life did he think he’d like the idea of taking things slow, but taking it slow with Peter had to be the best decision he’s made by far, even if that doesn't mean much, he's not one for making good choices. He wasn’t just interested in getting in the does pants, he wanted to  _ learn _ about him, and it still scares the fuck out of him. 

He knew Peters favorite book as well as he knew how to make him whimper when he nipped his lower lip. He liked the color combination of red and blue the same way he liked when he bit Peter's neck and then licked it. He's started favoring counting freckles of a certain complexion over counting stars.

He starts unbuttoning Peter's shirt, his hands impatient to feel his exposed skin. The bruises from the knights and bandits were beginning to fade, and it couldn’t relieve Wade more. He hated the thought of his sweet doe being hurt like that.

If he didn’t give up on his old ways he would hunt each individual man who hurt him and make them suffer for a time long enough they would wish they were dead.

“ _ Wade. _ ”

Wade snapped his gaze up to Peter, realizing he’d just been staring at the bruises and touching them with his thumbs. “Sorry, baby.”

He crawled further down the boys stomach to kiss every inch of him that he could see, occasionally sucking in a few hickeys. 

He loved every sound he pulled out of Peter, and how his body would quiver when he kissed him in certain places. His stomach was flat and surprisingly toned when he ran his fingers down to his hip bone, dense muscle from lifting at the farm but no hand-eye coordination to use it in a fight. Wade'll teach him eventually, he'll teach him  _ everything _ .

Peter kept on staring down at what Wade was doing, turning his gaze to the side when Wade glanced back up at him knowingly. Is it weird that he wants to watch what Wade was doing to him? Was he supposed to have his eyes closed? He didn’t know anything about this stuff, there's a whole world of mannerisms that he's never thought about.

But there were some things he did know. Like...how Wade grazing his teeth over his barely exposed hip made him feel good, and the way he was slowly sliding his pants off and wandering down to his thighs had him wanting more.

“Is that a knife in your boxers or are you just happy to see me?” Wade asked, still as childish as always.

“It's about to be-"

"-a knife in a second yeah yeah I get it. You’re no fun.”

The man tucked his fingers into the hem of Peters underwear and yanked them off, fully exposing him. It was still embarrassing for Peter, no matter how many times they’ve seen each other naked, it would still make Peter's whole chest bloom red from the breeze, since now it's such a different context. He was always going to be nervous in this moment.

“You’re so pretty like this.” Wade tells him in a growl, subtly smiling to himself when the boy's breath hitched. He flat out  _ refused _ to look back into those piercing eyes that wanted to swallow him whole, he had no idea how he would react if he did.

Peter had to cover his mouth when a hand finally touched his dick, stroking in a way that has him fighting to keep his hips still. He despised how Wade kept on talking and teasing him, and he despised his body for reacting in such a way to every word whispered to him.

"Honey, don't muffle yourself, I wanna hear you." Peter was acting as the cutest darn fiddle Wade's ever done seen, but he wanted to see him let go for once. He's always string tight and ready to snap at any second, with only a few seconds of true relaxation a day, Wade wants to find a way to dilute that stress, hopefully through a means that they both enjoy.

Wade slowed down his actions, removing his hand from Peter's disco stick and leaning back to have a grip onto his long legs and lift them, letting each ankle hook over his shoulders. 

He could tell Peter was having a harder time trying to avoid his gaze. Those wide eyes were now hooded and glazed over, mesmerising Wade into forgetting why he did this in the first place. He should get a move on.

He looked around them for his trusty satchel, admittedly rushing the search for lube once he spotted the bag. He was going to have Peter unraveling under him before they even get around to the real fun.

It was a new sensation, one that was foreign but not unwelcome in the slightest. Peter couldn't see what the man was doing, but something cold was circling his rim and attempting to dip in, only to carry on circling it at the last second before it could breach inside. 

Wade eventually slipped in a finger down to his first knuckle, stilling when he felt one of Peter's legs twitch on his shoulder. "That good, doe?"

“I need a second.” Peter breathed, his head tilted back into the grass.

“Alright, just tell me when you’re ready.” It was only one third of a finger and the doe was already getting nervous. Peter has never ventured all that much, if his overconfidence of his ability told him anything beforehand.

Peter nods after a shaky exhale, it all got too much too quickly, going from one thing to another like that, it was overwhelming. Although, he trusts Wade to take care of him, just as he's promised to do.

He did feel bad for making Wade wait though…it’s probably not that fun for him.

“‘M sorry.”

“For what? Do you want me to stop? I’ll stop.” Wade went to slip his finger out, but Peter quickly reached up to stop his hand.

“No!—I mean...I just feel bad for making you wait.”

"Pete I would genuinely wait a millennia if you told me to. This is about  _ you _ . I want you to feel good.” Wade massaged Peters thigh with his other hand, trying to give him whatever physical comfort he could while they were in this position. “You need to stop worrying so much.”

“You say that all the time.”

“Because you don’t listen. You can’t enjoy this if you’re freaking out the whole time.”

“I  _ know _ . But.. are you having fun? Do you like this?”

“Baby I get excited just being able to kiss you. I  _ love _ this, and I love you. Now relax, let me take care of you.” 

Peter inhaled a deep breath, recollecting himself and trying to lax his body.  _ “Okay.  _ I’m ready.”

The finger much larger than his own slips further into him and keeps on pushing, eventually reaching the last knuckle and making room inside him, pushing at his walls.

It left a weird full feeling inside of Peter, but it was comfortable in a way? There was a sharp buzz or pain that was tipped over by the pleasure that made him wonder if he was supposed to like that. The second finger inside him only further confused his feelings, the stretch burned in a slow maddening way that was strangely addictive. He couldn’t help but to moan through the hand that's attempting to muffle him.

Wade had already heard it, and it only enticed him to keep going. He began to thrust his fingers into him, going in different angles every time he pushed them back in until he heard yet another pitiful whimper. There's the pot of gold he was looking for. Wade oh so gently kissed Peter's quivering ankle, caressing his thigh once more. "You're doing so well, doe."

He curled his fingers inside of Peter, brushing them against those nerves again just to watch the boy lose himself. The image of Peter writhing and begging incoherently like this will forever be burned into his mind and kept like a treasure.

He was merciless, continuously nailing Peter's prostate with no signs of ever wanting to stop. Just seeing Peters hole swallowing up his fingers with hardly any resistance anymore was driving him crazy.

But he  _ really  _ got restless when his doe rocked his hips so greedily, trying to take what he could from Wade’s fingers. He couldn’t help but to add in a third finger, mostly with Peter doing all the work to get it in.

It was so hot, the pretty prince getting all blissed out  _ just  _ from his fingers. He couldn’t wait to see him bounce on his dick like he needed it to survive.

He spread his fingers out inside of Peter, stretching him little by little until he was sure the boy was loose enough, but he lingered just a bit longer around his prostate, practically drunk off of the adorable squeaks and gasps.

“Ready, baby?” He asked, glancing down at the shaking body.

It was a sight to behold, his head thrown to one side, sweat beading down his forehead and dampening his curls, the way his chest rose and fell dramatically, and his lips pretty and pink as ever.

“ _ Yes. _ Wade, I’m ready, I want you so bad.  _ Please _ .” That beautifully wrecked voice was just the cherry on top of this art work he’s created. It took every ounce of self control that he had to not just whip it out and fuck Peter into the grass then into next year. They needed to go at Peter's pace.

He gently pulled his fingers out of him, then scooted back, watching Peter's legs fall gracefully into the tall grass. “You beg so perfect, Petey. You drive me so crazy.”

Wade got him up and into his lap without having the doe to even lean up himself. The lithe little thing had his hands on Wade faster than he thought, desperately trying to unbutton his loose shirt and get it off Wade. It got Wade giggling like a drunken toddler, nipping at Peter's ear to get him to calm down.

“Let me help you, baby.” Wade grabbed Peters wrists and moved them out of the way, then got the shirt off himself by dragging the back off over his head. “Wasn’t that easy?”

“ _ Pants _ .” Peter demanded, it made the man hesitate, but Wade had to decline.

If he took off his pants Peter would see the scars and start running for the hills. He couldn’t handle that—he didn’t want to lose him because of the hideous monster that he was becoming.

“No-can-do, Petey. I don’t think laying naked in the grass would be all that fun.”

"You got me to do it, now you do too—" Peter was already starting to yank them down, almost getting to Wade’s scars before the man stopped him.

With fists clamped around the hem of his pants he speaks up again.“ _ This _ is good enough.” Wade tried to sound calm, but internally he was freaking the fuck out. He needed to do this without making Peter question him. “C’mon baby, I’m getting impatient. I want this just as much as you do.”

Peter stopped, looking at Wade. “Sorry. I’m just really excited.”

Wade smiled, stroking up and down Peter's body with his hands. “Give me a kiss, baby.”

One hand came up to take Peter by his jaw and pull him into a slow, heated kiss. He would've enjoyed it more if he wasn't bricking it.

They explore each other’s mouths with their tongues, barely allowing the other to breathe in the times that they would pull away and come right back together again. The short make out allowed Wade enough time to slide his boxers down his thighs enough to let his cock free. It was heavy in his hand, and aching from the lack of attention.

Peter doesn't know a lot about this sort of stuff, only whispers of it from crude men in the village as he’d pass by, but it's safe to say, Wade wasn't fucking lying when he said to count his fingers. That thing looks like a murder weapon.

“Having second thoughts?” Wade asked as he reached for the lube again.

“ _ No. _ ”

"I've never been more relieved to hear the word 'no' from you." He squirted a generous amount into his palm, stroking himself with that hand a couple times just to get it nice and slippery for Peter. “This is gonna be a little DIY, Petey.”

“A what?”

"I don't want to hurt you, so I’m gonna let you do it yourself. A DIY. Cool, huh? Made it up myself.”

“You are quite the genius.”

"I already know. I'll help you whenever you need it, but I promise to keep my hands to myself—mostly. Alright?” Wade circled his thumbs into Peter's hips and laid back. This was the perfect angle to watch the doe get all wrecked.

“Okay. I think I can do this.” Peter took Wade’s cock into his hand, gulping from how his fingers can't meet around it. 

He lowered himself until the tip of it was pressing against him, trying to push in. He took one final deep breath and let it slide in, only struggling a little until he got about 3 inches down. 

"Almost half way, doe."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." 

He had to put a lot of work into getting  _ just  _ those 3 inches in. It’s like all of Wade’s fingers weren’t even that much help. His tip alone was stretching him past where he thought his limit was.

There was a burn building up every time he pushed further down, and that addictive full feeling came right back. He let his upper body weight be held up by his hands where they splayed out on Wade's abs.

At first, the burn was fine, but now it was becoming a little too intense. His fingers curled into tight fists on Wade’s chest, putting all his focus on the grip instead of the pain.

“You okay, Petey?” Wade asked, quickly trying to sit up and then being pushed right back down by Peter. The boy is stronger than either of them anticipate.

“Sorry!—just… don’t move. I’m okay, it hurts a little though.”

“We can just st—“

“Don’t finish that sentence! I want to keep going, I just need your  _ help _ .”

Wade nodded and placed his hands firmly on Peter's hips again, still looking at the boy's face. “It’ll feel better, I promise.”

He started lowering Peters hips, trying not to go too fast or bruise his hips right now. The boy was so tight and warm around him, it’s like being wrapped up in a blanket and then tucked in with more blankets.

Peter felt like he was being split in two, like a tree being split by lightning. But his body still clenched right around Wade as if it wanted more.

He didn't used to think having eyes on him would drive him this warm in the face, he was accustomed to the local villagers eying him down instead of greeting him, it was a routine of his when he had to trudge round and put posters up for Jameson, or trade over their last crate of eggs. Yet, with Wade's stare boring into him, having the man's full attention for doing something so whorish and private, he couldn’t feel any better, the control he's gained over him felt as if it was a reward for such an embarrassing act.

It wasn’t long before he was fully seated on Wade’s lap, the pain spiking but being pushed aside as soon as Wade took hold of the boy's dick and stroked it at an achingly slow pace, but it was enough to distract Peter. He wanted Wade to go faster, and he tried dropping a few hints to him, but he knew what Wade wanted him to do in order to get it.

He tested the waters first, moving his hips a couple inches up, and then dropping back down. It still hurt, but feeling more pleasure in his cock was like an instant relief medicine.

He tries again under Wade's approval, impaling himself once more with a low moan. He's never felt so stuffed before, raising his body up a couple inches already creates such an empty space in his guts, the dick in him has rearranged his insides so much there might be a permanent hole in his middle when he takes it out.

He could hear Wade audibly groan under him every time Peter moved his hips in a certain way, his curiosity and excitement prompting him to try again until Wade’s fingers flexed around his hip. He was growing more accustomed to this feeling, the pain was already a worry all the way in the back of his head now. 

The merc knew he had given Peter control for a reason, but he's another shy moan away from wrecking that perfect ass his way. He loved watching the boy ride him, but damn, he would look so good all spread out and fucked on the floor. He wasn't famous for his self control.

" _ Fuck _ , Petey." He grunted as the boy experimentally rolled his hips. He had no business being this fucking hot. The wolf had so much he wanted to do to him, Peter will not be the same innocent farm boy he was by the time they get him to his aunts farm,  _ that’s _ for sure. He'll show him adventurous, alright.

Wade bucks up, his free hand guiding the doe to slam down and meet him. He didn’t think it was possible, but the louder Peter got the more angelic he sounded, his shiney eyes sparkling with tears. 

Grass stains were smearing into Peter's shins, leaving imprints of the small blades in his skin, the same happening to the expanse of Wade's bareback. The merc ends up setting the pace for Peter even after he told him the doe would have full control, but he's not controlling him, the wolf is helping him, that's all. He  _ needs _ Wade's lead.

“Doe—shit!—I  _ love  _ this, but I want to flip you over and fuck you so bad right now. Would you let me, baby?” He implored the boy, ogling up at that stunning, completely delirious face as he snapped his hips once more.

He thought that maybe Peter hadn’t heard him, or he was too out of it to give him any response, but the boy seemed to come back to reality with high pitched moans and desperate begging.

“Please, I want more! I want you to fuck me!” The words felt foreign on Peter's tongue, but they ran out so smoothly. His mind was too lost to be able to even  _ grasp _ how embarrassed he should be. But Wade seemed to like it, as the man briskly pushed Peter off of him and right into the grass, bringing one of the boys legs to rest on his shoulder while pushing the other thigh down against Peter's chest in a way that can only be described as wanton.

As he lined himself back up, Wade could only think about how flexible the doe is, how pliant he can be. The way his stomach rose and fell with his shallow panting, his impatient wriggling, those pretty eyelashes damp and clumped together.

If he had the patience, he would’ve dragged this out, make Peter tell him how bad he wanted to get fucked—and fates, he could imagine how hot that’d be, but the pitiful little cries made him all but drive himself right into the perfect prince without even a second to think beforehand.

He set a brutal pace, the boy letting out a long string of loud, dragged out moans and gasps as Wade abused his prostate without relent.

The wolf could tell Peter was close before the doe himself could. He’d start tensing around him when he’d get too close, then relax once it died down, Wade was nearing just from that feeling alone.

He decides to be generous, wrapping one hand around the boy's dick and pulling on it with the rhythm of his thrusts. 

Peter reached out a hand for him, managing to touch his shaking fingertips to Wade's stubbles, their eyes locking a deceivingly long moment before Peter's all but rolled into the back of his head. The man couldn’t help but to speed up after witnessing that, reveling in the choked sounds coming from those glossy lips.

The consistent hammering of Wade’s movements were knocking the air right out of Peter and sending sparks throughout his body, causing his muscles to tense up when it became just too overwhelming.

“You feel so good, Petey.” Wade groaned out, burying himself deeper into the boy until those gorgeous legs wrapped around his waist and clung right enough that he couldn’t thrust into him anymore, reducing the movements to a rough grind.

“ _ Wade— _ “ The doe gasped, sending goosebumps up Wade’s spine. Hearing him say his name like that felt electric.

“ _ Say my name again _ .” He growled out his words. He ground his hips further, feeling that tight clench around him again.

“Wade.” The boy moaned again, rocking back against the man without even a second thought. Everything inside of him was bubbling like a long overdue volcano, and it felt  _ amazing. _

“ _ Louder. _ ” The man grabbed one of Peter's legs and pushed it to the side, allowing himself to resume those brutal, animalistic thrusts. He could  _ feel  _ Peter coming undone under him, driving him to keep going.

The boy must’ve forgot what Wade asked, because now he had his head tipped back, blissfully crying out inaudible sounds. He’d make him remember.

He pulled out almost all the way, leaving the head of his cock just inside and staying there. Of course, the boy caught on as soon as it happened and looked up at him with big puppy eyes.

“ _ Please _ , don’t stop, I want you inside, pl—“

Just before Peter could keep begging, Wade plunges right back in with such force that the smack of their skin nearly echoed, and so did Peters pretty screams.

“Say my name.” Wade repeated, thrusting into Peter in a way that no mortal man ever could, spikes of pleasure building inside of him every time the doe tightened.

“Wade!” The boy cried out, the pleasure becoming so much that it pushed him right over the edge, his cock twitching in Wade’s hand and spurting cum all over his stomach.

It was a gorgeous sight.

Wade stared down at the spent doe, only getting in a few more thrusts himself before he was completely leaning over the thin body and spilling into him, both groaning at the sensation.

He hadn’t fucked someone in so long, especially someone  _ this fucking hot _ . It almost felt unreal, having the most beautiful person in all of the land panting right under him, shivering from the slight overstimulation.

The man carefully slid himself out of Peter and let his legs fall comfortably at his sides, only leaning away from the boy for a second to shimmy a rag out of his satchel.

Like a gentleman, he cleaned Peter first, wiping away the cum on his stomach while whispering sweet nothings to his pretty face. And once he was done cleaning himself, he buttoned his pants back up and laid right next to Peter, holding him in his arms and kissing him wherever he could reach.

“I love you, Wade.” A small, breathy voice muttered against his chest as weak hands tried to meet at his back. Every time he hears Peter say that, it feels like his heart skips a beat—he hasn’t heard another person tell him that in a long time, and he  _ hated _ himself for reacting like a little bitch.

But he still can’t stop himself from burying his nose into that curly moppy mess of hair, grass, and twigs—He couldn't stop when he squeezed the doe and held him there like a lock to a door.

“I love you too, Petey.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! This is based off of an rp I’ve been doing with my friend Pant for a rlly long time! We’ve been wanting to write this for forever and we’re finally getting started!  
> We also have a Spotify playlist for this fic. Its 300+ songs and 22 hours long  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6HX931c7jEqXUDOtBaw3J5?si=vni_42sLTmukpI2R3hwV6w


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